


Command and Conquer: Azur Twilight

by Die_Finale_Flumen



Category: Code Geass, Command & Conquer (Video Games)
Genre: Alternate Universe - 1990s, Gen, Military, Politics, War
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-09
Updated: 2021-02-21
Packaged: 2021-03-13 02:49:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 12
Words: 26,996
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28646310
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Die_Finale_Flumen/pseuds/Die_Finale_Flumen
Summary: The famous GDI general was embroiled in a long journey the day before embarking on another road of no return."Don't you think you are a failure?"McNeil looked at the cross-shaped scar on Lilin's hand thoughtfully."I used to live in a place like apocalypse, what isn't a failure?"The fall of a hero.————————————English isn't my native language.If there's any grammar mistake,please figure it out.Thanks.
Kudos: 4





	1. OR0: Black Noah

**Author's Note:**

> The eighty-year-old GDI General McNeil started his new battle.

OR0: Black Noah

For some people, they are already decayed before death actually comes, and they are just waiting to die. Some people are not, they will maintain the same enthusiasm until the fire of life is completely extinguished. Those who have witnessed the magnificent history and erratic changes, always hope to pass on their wishes to those who are worthy of trust. Some people are lucky to live to the end of the disaster, while others can only accept praise and praise in their memories.

It is a torture to bury a hatred that is almost paranoid for a long time, and Michael McNeil knows this deeply. His hatred of the enemy will never fade with the passage of time, and even grow stronger with his old age. As long as there is one percent hope, he must find a way to put his opponent to death. Therefore, when he received the anonymous communication, he almost immediately decided to go to the city that had been buried by the poisonous crystal. The respected elder veteran was stopped by the bodyguard who was responsible for his personal safety before he left New Adana. Michael McNeil is a symbol of victory, and the **GDS Michael McNeil** is a symbol of unity. This common concept based on propaganda is an important bargaining chip for maintaining stability in the eyes of New Adana. Neither Evelyn Rios nor Wesley Riggs would let this idol make any mistakes. However, everyone underestimated McNeil's determination, especially he will not let the culprit who ruined his life disappear in the world as a savior so easily. While General Riggs was still studying the budget of the First Fleet, he learned that McNeil and some of his old soldiers had left New Adana privately for the city that had long been abandoned by humans.

"I never thought we would return to the West Coast on this day." McNeil, who was walking through the narrow underground passage with his comrades, seemed panting. His age was much higher than those around him. People of his age are probably still resting in nursing homes or have gone to the grave. He is still alive and will continue to live-he has sent away batch after batch of people who are likely to be more qualified to survive. In the end, only he saw the hope of victory. In the ten years since Tiberium spread to the world, the scope of human activities has shrunk to several major cities with New Adana as the core, and they are increasingly threatened. Today's GDI no longer has the stage for McNeil to exert his ability. Regardless of the faction, those politicians are not worthy of leaders in his eyes.

The ocean has become an unattainable term in the minds of the new generation of young people. Flying through ion storms is usually very dangerous. Many famous figures have lost their lives in this way. After arriving at the outskirts of the city that should be called **San Francisco** , McNeil searched for the location given in the communication and unexpectedly found an underground facility. No one knows the origin of this facility, and McNeil, the most experienced, has no idea about it. They tried to judge the purpose of the facility through the numbers and signs on the wall, but they all ended in failure.

A group of people walked along the passage and came to the end of the passage, where there was a locked gate.

"We've seen enough weird things, and we couldn't think of anything weirder than the lunatics of NOD and those aliens."

Ricardo Vega moved forward cautiously and patted the door lightly, but there was no response from inside.

"It doesn't matter anymore; we can bear it." McNeil came to the front and told Vega to step back. Over the decades, he has cultivated Ricardo Vega into a sufficiently unique character with a rather complicated mood, but it is not enough. At least he is not like Pierce who has saved Rios’s life, nor like Parker who became a hero in the second invasion. However, his life span may be coming to an end, and seeing God at the age of eighty is definitely a normal death for an ordinary person.

McNeil didn't know the motives of the mysterious person; he chose to believe the unknown information by instinct. Now, there may be a major secret in front of him, or an unprecedented conspiracy, more deadly than the Bialystok massacre. Many people will turn to unrealistic mystics when the relatively more realistic means are exhausted. McNeil consciously is a soldier who believes in science and reason. Unexpectedly, he fell into the same trap as those of his predecessors when he was old.

The soldiers behind carried down a heavy box, McNeil opened it in front of everyone, and took out the sparkling transparent ball inside. He has nothing to fear. If TCN can really save mankind, then he can also find enough reasons to use **Tacitus**.

"...If I can't come out, you just go back the same way and don't say anything." McNeil turned around and said, "New Adana is messy enough. I think General Riggs' biggest mistake is to make one People who are more rigid than me manage the First Fleet... Don't bother them."

A dazzling burst of light burst out, and in the next second McNeil evaporated directly from the world. Everyone looked at each other, and no one could understand what happened. Ricardo Vega waited patiently, even though their time was running out. It is certainly not a wise move to pay for an absurd year of the old chief, but Vega thinks that people always do something stupid, and sooner or later they will.

McNeil, who was bald twenty years ago, raised his head. The first thing that appeared before him was a huge hemispherical building with a dome made of some kind of material. McNeil could not point out the location of this building. At the bottom of the sphere, there was a shining band around the entire building, and he guessed that it might be a decoration similar to a neon light.

"You can take off your helmet. There is no suffocating air in this place."

McNeil did not follow the instructions of the mysterious voice. He took out his pistol and carefully moved forward around the outside of the hemisphere, trying to find an entrance. At this time, he found a man in a black robe standing at the entrance and exit of a suspected elevator, watching him with the expression of watching a monkey in the zoo.

"You are the one who sent information to the new Adana?" McNeil asked, "This place does not seem to have a direct connection with the outside world. How did you stay here for a long time?"

"There are always things in the world that exceed your expectations, General McNeil." The mysterious man came to McNeil, and McNeil discovered that he still had a beard that imitated some of his most hated bald heads. "Especially for you, I thought you wouldn't make a fuss like everyone else."

McNeil opened the helmet visor, revealing an old face covered with age spots. In front of outsiders, he always presents himself as a successful person who is still young and strong, rather than an old man who is aging.

"As long as that monster can pay for the crime he committed, I can sacrifice everything."

"No, General McNeil, you seem to have misunderstood-Kane will make the final atonement for all his crimes sooner or later, but I care more about you. To be precise, when will GDI realize that you and them are both sinners?" The mysterious man sarcastically satirized McNeil and all the great people he respected. "Think about it, General McNeil. You are the most successful monster of GDI. The souls of Mark Sheppard and James Solomon, as well as the last wishes of Jack Granger and Zachary Harkin. You have witnessed the beginning of everything, and perhaps you will see the end of this painful struggle..."

"I'm doing what I should do. I don't want to be a hero, and a hero can't change history." McNeil said irritably. "You called me here to show your excess kindness to criminals and bandits. Keep it to the court. Anyway, what is this?"

The man in black looked at the puzzled McNeil with interest, "Didn’t Sheppard tell you?"

"He died when I was in my twenties. At that time, I didn't know that I would deal with the army for the rest of my life." McNeil explained, "As for General Solomon, I don't think he knows more. Maybe he is hiding something from me."

"To put it briefly, this is a magical creation that gives you the opportunity to make up for your regrets. In 1946, Albert Einstein conducted a secret experiment in Philadelphia. He would never have expected that this experiment would have an important impact on human history. " The man in black and McNeil walked around the hemisphere together. McNeil noticed that there were still portraits of people he didn’t know hanging on the wall. "At that time, the imagination of mankind is still flourishing, and many people have put forward ideas about time travel, but they lack a systematic and self-justified theoretical hypothesis. Therefore, it is not difficult for you to imagine what Einstein's theory means to humans. The most important thing is, your ancestors have found a solution to disintegrate their opponents once and for all. They can try to kill any possible enemy in the cradle before everything happens, and eliminate any resistance forever." He came under one of the portraits, "Of course, this fruit is too heavy for your country. It is an area that all mankind should never touch. In 1968, NATO decided to open another experimental base in Hesse, West Germany. At the same time, the prototype of this facility was built. In 1995, the control of the facility was transferred to the **Special Operations Group Echo** of the UN Special Department **Black Ops 9** , which was under the control of General Mark Jamison Sheppard. His action surprised me. He gave up all attempts to use it to influence and interfere with the real world, perhaps because after the **Sigma Coordinator Incident** , he worried that similar research would cause public panic."

McNeil had never heard Sheppard or Solomon talk about similar things. His instinct told him that the man in black had no need to lie to him. Of course, nonsense to a person who was fast-forwarding in the coffin would bring nothing.

"It sounds very interesting. Everyone may want to go back in time and change things that they regret. However, no one can avoid making mistakes. When they correct old mistakes, there will only be more mistakes waiting for them." McNeil said confidently, "Even if this facility really has this kind of power, its usefulness to me is infinitely close to zero."

"...Please allow me to point out your mistake, that is, I am also not interested in changing history." The man in black explained humbly, "Besides, for people who are as proud as you, admit that you have regrets is the biggest failure. On the contrary, what I am proposing to you is another deal: I know that you are desperate for revenge against someone who claims to be a prophet, but I cannot give up the intervention for personal reasons, and I am out of Moral reasons can’t bear to let a rare hero like you curse someone in despair and then pass away.” At this point, the twisted face under the hood showed a reluctant smile, “So, if you still believe that a hero who was born to defeat the devil can change the cruel and cold reality of steel after an extremely long journey. I let you reserve the right to retaliate. Otherwise, I hope you remember Kane’s warning."

"I know that he who hurts him will be punished seven times." McNeil sneered. "Chandra is dead, and Eva is dead. He allowed me to live not to be kind, but to see me begging for mercy. But even if this pain is repeated countless times, I will still expose his tricks in front of him, even if it will satisfy Gideon and his lackey."

McNeil recalled those past events. He was once a compelling hero, but in the decades that followed, he became obscured and became a symbol. Until ten years ago, Rios, who thought he was worthwhile, brought him out again as a propaganda model. They would rather spend a lot of money to build a new battleship named after him, than waste even a penny on giving pensions to the families of his deceased comrades-in-arms.

"I have no choice, right?"

"Yes. It is also an option to go back to New Adana and wait for your doctor to notify you of advanced brain cancer."

"It's a pity that I didn't know someone who can tell dry humor like you in the first half of my life." McNeil exclaimed, "Twenty years ago I thought I was old enough. I never thought I still have the opportunity to do something even more unthinkable. Then, I hope you can abide by the agreement between us, provided that I can survive this unclear challenge."

"That's natural. Before you start, I have to remind you that your destination may be far or completely different from the human society you know well. I hope you will be mentally prepared."

However, until McNeil really embarks on the journey, he will not realize that the man in black has never lied. He is accustomed to all kinds of lies, so he subconsciously does not believe anything that anyone says at will.

OR0 END


	2. Introduction to OR1(Code Geass)

McNeil came to a new world. In the history of this world, the French Revolution swept Europe and eventually established a federal republic spanning Europe, Asia, and Africa. The United States of America never existed, replaced by a feudal monarchy. In the east of the world, it is the oldest monarchy empire that rules East Asia.

In the South African colony of the EU, apartheid is causing more and more serious conflicts. McNeil became an ordinary member of this catastrophe.

Difficulty: DEFCON 3

Rank:Recruit (OR-1)


	3. OR1-EP1: Rainbow Nation (1)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> McNeil's first day in the new world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The 1990s of the Code Geass world view is difficult to describe, and the settings in this article do not represent any official opinions.

[Music of this Chapter](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FpU0FoPsaes)

OR1-EP1: Rainbow Nation (1)

When McNeil woke up from his drowsiness, he first noticed the dim light above his head, and then his body that had undergone some strange changes. For an old man who always accompanies the medicine bottle, the sudden disappearance of the pain is enough to make the dullest person notice the abnormality. He raised his right hand and was surprised to find that all the wrinkles on his hand had disappeared, which in his opinion was a more exciting fact than any good news. If the old people who stepped half-footed into the coffin can exchange their life gains for their youth, they may be willing to give everything. This is caused by the instinctive fear of death. McNeil, who had returned to his youth, finally began to look around this small room. The room was very empty. There was nothing except a simple bed and the old light bulbs that flickered from time to time. You could not even see the windows. It must be the result of some malicious engineers being lazy.

Now, he has more opportunities to fulfill his wish, but he must be more cautious. The man in black told the truth. McNeil may no longer be where he was originally. He didn't know where it was on the earth. He couldn't act rashly until he found out more information. He first used this bed as a search object and found a humble trademark on the bed sheet. To his surprise, the above content was written in French, and McNeil could not help but suspect that he might be in France or somewhere in North Africa. He understands the distribution of each major language. French is the official language in France, North Africa, West Africa, and Quebec in Canada. Other countries in the world may prefer to use English to label. So, since he guessed that he has a great probability of being outside of America, he must find a way to return to America as soon as possible.

McNeil opened the door and took the first step towards a strange world. Outside the door is a slightly narrow corridor, and the air is full of a pungent smell, which may be caused by the long-term accumulation of domestic garbage. Silence surrounds everything around. This abnormal tranquility is always disturbing. McNeil prefers a slightly noisy environment. He turned his head and looked across the corridor, only to see the man in the black robe walking towards him unhurriedly.

"What's this trick?"

"Before I talk about tricks, I want you to see what you look like first." The mysterious man took out a mirror from his jacket pocket. McNeil quickly looked into the mirror, and he unexpectedly found that he appeared much younger in the mirror. In fact, McNeil doesn't care about his appearance, but he has become bald since he was sixty years old, and this incident always makes him worry. Many people are plagued by hair loss and baldness. McNeil is particularly unhappy. He thought he had a chance to compete with the well-dressed old gentlemen. The bald old man looked like a paralyzed patient who had been lying in a nursing home for ten years. As long as this problem is resolved, he has no intention of paying attention to other issues related to appearance.

"This is really surprising. I can't think of any technology in the world that can make people young." McNeil looked at the still empty corridor, "Presumably you don't plan to tell me the principle of this technology. It won’t be sold to us... So, what is this place? Algeria or Tunisia?"

"I am not obligated to tell you where you are now. Naturally, I have no reason to tell you what to do, or that most people, including you, are exploring their own goals instead of being pushed by others to accomplish some missions." The man in black stepped back, "If you have to make a clear statement, then my answer is, do what you think you should do, that's enough."

The man in black suddenly disappeared, as if he had never left any traces here. McNeil blinked, he suspected that he had hallucinations. After he repeatedly confirmed that the mysterious person had disappeared without a trace, he gave up the thought of continuing to search. There is no doubt that McNeil is very curious about the origin and identity of the man in black, but more than this, he should consider how to survive in this strange place. He didn't even know which city in which country it was. McNeil walked along the corridor. He didn't miss any clues. Unfortunately, he was not very proficient in French, otherwise he should have realized what the strange graffiti on the wall meant.

There is only one thing he can be sure of: the level of technology here is very backward. McNeil was born in an era of rapid technological advancement. In his long life, he has witnessed the demise of countless traditional industries and the rise of emerging industries. Before he was 20 years old, the influence of the Internet and related industries on the world was comparable to the tremendous changes brought to human society by the steam engine during the first industrial revolution. The generals he respected most also joked that everyone in the future would interact with these Smart products are a lifetime companion. Therefore, McNeil can easily infer the overall condition of the city from the surrounding environment. It seems that the Internet is not popular, and the Internet itself may not even be born. He has not heard any sound from electronic devices so far.

McNeil, who had just left the building, found a black man looking straight at him, to be precise, at the leather jacket he was wearing. McNeil and his leather jacket have become a symbol of a living fossil old man like pipes and top hats of the old age. He used to wear this dress only for convenience, and later it was to show his past achievements and existence value. Of course, the black man in shabby clothes could not afford the price of the clothes, but he would make a lot of money if he took the clothes and sold them. McNeil thought about it this way, he watched the black man with a trace of fear in his eyes tremblingly retreated, and then flew away like an escape. This gesture shocked McNeil. He thought there was something more terrifying behind him, but he didn't find any abnormalities. It seems that the black people here may be living unsatisfactorily, or they may regard McNeil as a vagrant who came to make trouble.

McNeil walked out of the dilapidated residential area and came to the street. Several children in hats passed by him on bicycles, McNeil snorted dissatisfiedly and turned to see an old car passing in front of him. In McNeil's impression, this car is an old style about seven or eighty years ago. When he got an impression of the concept of **car** , there was no such classic car on the market. Against the scorching sun above his head, the languid youth walked to an old man who was selling newspapers not far away. He has always respected those old people who are forced to work to earn a living. He is also 80 years old. He can live in an official nursing home, while some people can only live on the street. This situation makes him feel a little ashamed.

McNeil glanced at the contents of the newspaper and found that there were no English words on it.

"Dude, you should find a job, not have fun here." The old man said dissatisfiedly.

"It seems a bit difficult to find an English newspaper now." McNeil said absently, "I regret not studying French when I had the opportunity before."

"I think so." The old man sighed. "We are second-class citizens, and we don't have a future if we don't speak French... However, compared to those who can only live on reservations, we have a decent life. At least we don't worry about life danger."

McNeil heard the word **reservations**. He secretly guessed why the reservation was prepared, and continued to say half-lied: "It’s not easy for everyone. I used to work as a security guard in Hammerfest, and recently came here to make a living. Unfortunately, I ran out of money, and now I can’t go back."

He did have a certain connection with Hammerfest, but his brother Jake McNeil was on duty there, and he has since caused one of the greatest tragedies in GDI history-second only to the destruction of the GDSS Philadelphia. However, McNeil is familiar with everything about Hammerfest, and even if he is thoroughly questioned, he can still pretend to be a resident who has lived there for at least ten years. Camouflage is an indispensable skill for soldiers and commanders. In the uncertain situation between the enemy and ours, wishing to win by head-on confrontation is just a silly fantasy.

"Poor old Jacob, he hopes to build this area into a developed area that doesn't depend on mining. But now that this kind of thing happens to his son, all commercial constructions have failed." The old man read the contents of the newspaper, "Yes. Who would have thought that Adalbert was suddenly involved in a murder case?"

There are also a few names that McNeil has no way of understanding. Jacob can be English or French or German. Adalbert is probably a name that Germans would use. Then maybe Jacob is not Jacob but Jakob or Kobes.

McNeil looked at the photo in the newspaper. It showed four policemen escorting a young man with a hostile face. They must have wasted a lot of time in arresting this suspect.

"Those who want to complete their careers throughout the ages will probably be hindered by various emergencies. For example, I became a vagrant on the streets." McNeil mocked himself, "If someone wants to improve the local economy, that’s not what he can do alone. It requires everyone’s cooperation."

"It's really a shame. Old Herzog is the most conscientious director I have ever seen in my life. It is precisely because he is too particular about moral and procedural justice that he was squeezed out of Paris by those people. Unexpectedly, he cannot escape the scandal."

At this moment, McNeil outlined a clearer picture in his heart. Director is a title during the French Revolution, and here is South Africa, and the official language is French. It can only show that France has replaced the British Empire as the world's hegemon at some point in the past, otherwise French will not have the basis for full popularity. Nevertheless, considering that the old man in front of him speaks English like himself, perhaps the French method is not very popular. In addition, the newspaper did not use the AD year, but instead used the French Republican calendar that McNeil had in mind, which had been deactivated hundreds of years ago. To be honest, he didn't understand why someone would invent a new calendar that was not practical just to make a difference.

"It seems I have to find a way to go back, or I'll starve to death here sooner or later."

"There are other ways, such as being a miner." The old man suggested, "I also worked as a miner when I was young...When I got older, the bank where I deposited my deposit went bankrupt."

"...You can try to go to Paris, maybe there is a different opportunity."

"Young man, I can't afford a ferry ticket or air ticket to Paris. If I voluntarily go to Siberia to do hard work, I definitely don't have to pay." The newspaper seller said helplessly, "In the name of EU, Europe has become their paradise. The only difference between us and the natives living on the reservation is that we will not be blatantly discriminated against by some people."

McNeil's blood froze. He once thought that EU was a joke, at least for the rest of his life, but the facts the old man said completely subverted his perception. It seems that the matter is not just as simple as France's hegemony. The emergence of the EU shows that the failed integration movement has achieved a relatively satisfactory result.

With the opportunity of small talk, McNeil gradually figured out the ins and outs with the assistance of the old man. Europe, Africa, and North Asia are ruled by a giant named **United Republics of Europia** (URE or EU), and the twelve-star flag on the blue background has become a symbol of unshakable hegemony. However, EU can be regarded as a relatively common thing in McNeil’s concept. When he learned that the entire American continent on the other side of the ocean was controlled by a monarchy called the **Holy Britannian Empire** (HBE), he just feel that his outlook on life is completely reimbursed. McNeil has always despised monarchs, especially those princes who sit in the desert and enjoy the blessings. He can't imagine why some people will be willing to succumb to the slavery of princes and nobles in the new era.

"Are you short of helpers?" McNeil thought about it and decided to make a living as the top priority. "As long as I can get a job, I don't care about income."

The old man looked at the thick calluses on McNeil's hand, and asked suspiciously:

"When do the current security guards have so many opportunities for actual drills? When I served in the local militia in Rhodesia when I was young, I couldn't shoot ten shots all year round. Even the current recruits did not have the opportunity to fight."

McNeil suddenly realized that he was ignoring an important issue. A slightly experienced person can quickly discover that McNeil is a veteran rather than a security or other professional practitioner. He could only consider himself unlucky. He could not imagine that an old man selling newspapers on the street had such a wealth of life experience. Sure enough, he should not underestimate his **peer** who was about his original age.

"...This is my hobby, hunting." McNeil defended solemnly.

TBC

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Background introduction:  
> The African colonies of the EU adopted a governance plan similar to the French colony in reality.


	4. OR1-EP1: Rainbow Nation (2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> McNeil tried to seek help from senior officials, but the governor-general ignored him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This article shows a hypothetical South African flag. This flag may represent racial discrimination or hate speech in reality. Please treat it wisely.

(The flag of EU's Dominion of South Africa)

OR1-EP1: Rainbow Nation (2)

McNeil once hated artificial intelligence products that interfered with his life in all aspects. It was not until he never had access to these things that he truly understood how technology profoundly changed people's lives. Without a computer, no Internet, no smart phone or optical implant, searching for information has become a thankless job. Not only that, even TV is a luxury item, at least McNeil only found an old radio in the old man’s residence.

The old man's name is Jake Land. He is 77 years old and has the same name as McNeil's brother who has passed away for many years. The old newspaper seller said that he used to be a successful man with a family and a career, but a series of changes made him close to a homeless man. Now he is alone and helpless, thinking about making a living as a truck driver. McNeil sympathizes with his experience very much. There is no more tragic thing for old people to support themselves. McNeil, who thinks he is strong and has many work skills, temporarily decided to let this old man enjoy his old age as his goal at this stage.

"So, Governor-general Herzog's ancestors were Britannians?" McNeil and Old Jake gnawed hard bread together on the street. The taste of this bread reminded McNeil of war rations. No matter how this kind of emergency food is upgraded, it cannot be replaced by normal food, and McNeil does not want to live a life of forever eating battle rations. Before he left the original world, it was terrifying to hear that someone in GDI proposed to use a new set of equipment so that soldiers do not need food at all.

"His ancestors escaped during the Britannian Civil War. At that time, the Britannian Empire fell into terrible chaos. Neither the royal family nor the nobles were spared." Old Jake looked at the hurried pedestrians on the street. He has no confidence in his business at all. These citizens may not be interested in international news, or they are in short supply. "However, our EU is the biggest monster for monarchs all over the world. His ancestors may have been affected by that kind of propaganda, so they did not go to Europe, but settled in Africa. There are many Britannian civilians and nobles who decided to flee to Africa for various reasons. We generally call them African Britannians, or ABs for short. "

"So, what are the people who live on the reservation?" McNeil asked, "They are the real **African**."

"Everyone knows that they-at least in the eyes of the masters in Paris-are not people." Old Jake counted the few euros left in his pocket. "We can invent some words to call them. Anyway, we won't treat them as human beings."

McNeil discovered that what he had previously dismissed has now become a luxury that he could not afford. He needs a watch and a mobile phone. The prices of these two items are beyond his current capacity, even though the latter is only a large telephone with communication functions. He is thinking about ways to earn more living funds, maybe he can expand his business, or find ways to get in touch with some dignitaries.

Near noon, McNeil decided to take a gamble. He has dealt with many big figures and met with many GDI Directors-general. Even if he was asked to face the Emperor of Britannia, he wouldn't have the slightest fear. He decided to put his ideas into practice, so he first went to a nearby store to buy a black umbrella, and then took the umbrella to the house of Jacob Herzog. As the governor-general of the EU in South Africa, Herzog’s contact information is completely public, so that if the citizens are dissatisfied, they can complain to him immediately.

Outside of the neighborhood where he and the old Jake Land are located, there is a completely different scene outside. Since the 19th century, the EU's mining in southern Africa has benefited local residents, making South Africa develop rapidly and become EU's largest construction in Africa. One of the results is that this honor has made the governors-general of other regions particularly jealous. However, compared with publicity, successive South African governors-general must have spent more money on the construction of luxurious villas. McNeil looked at the houses modeled after European castles and gardens in surprise. He hadn't seen a similar luxury scene for a long time. The luxury of the blue zone is just in comparison with that of the yellow zone. In fact, everyone is living a hard life. McNeil could not imagine that he would have the opportunity to see this non-existent building—what a waste of resources.

Of course, he was not allowed to enter, so he opened his umbrella and stood on the periphery watching the guards at the door. Within a few minutes, one of the guards became vigilant, touching the pistol on the belt with one hand, and slowly approaching McNeil.

"Quefaites-vous ici, monsieur?"

McNeil didn't say a word, just continued to hold the umbrella, like a decorative sculpture at the door.

"Sir, can you understand English?" The guard looked suspiciously at McNeil, who was pretending to be dumb. "Have you never learned French?"

"Sorry, I haven't studied French myself." McNeil was a little ashamed. "I'm looking for Governor-general Herzog. I have urgent information to tell him."

The guard looked crazy when he saw this man wearing an expensive leather jacket, perhaps he was a habitual offender who came here for extortion. He ignored the unknown liar, and returned to his post to continue on duty. Unexpectedly, immediately afterwards, he and his colleagues witnessed the uninvited visitor standing motionless outside for an entire afternoon, which aggravated the doubts in their hearts. In the evening, three lengthened cars drove up along the other end of the path, and the guards hurriedly stepped forward and told the driver about the incident. Needless to say, the driver also assumes the responsibility of defending the politician.

The guard who dismissed McNeil during the day ran to him:

"His Excellency the Governor-general wants to talk to you."

McNeil held up his black umbrella without a hassle, recalling his fading memories in his mind. In McNeil's life, he has witnessed a similar trial in which Logan Sheppard, the son of Mark Sheppard, was suspected of intentional murder. Logan Sheppard’s wife was killed by a robber, but the court decided to acquit the criminal due to lack of sufficient evidence and jury factors—the man died in the street a few days later, and everyone suspected it was Logan is taking revenge. When James Solomon analyzed what happened to McNeil, he relentlessly pointed out that it was a dangerous attempt by Mark Sheppard himself to challenge the established law. Whether Sheppard’s gambling with his own son as a bait is successful is not a question McNeil needs to think about. His current task is to convince Governor-general Jacob Herzog.

Several guards beside the car unanimously drew their pistols, and as long as McNeil showed signs of hostility, they shot him on the spot.

Jacob Herzog has just turned sixty this year. His hair is completely gray and his body is still healthy. With a pair of black-rimmed glasses on his nose, he looks thin and full of energy. The Governor-general looked at the strange young man and said slowly:

"I have to remind you that the rights granted to citizens by the law are not used by you to waste time."

"I have a way of acquitting Major Adalbert Herzog."

Governor-general Herzog pinched the black-framed glasses that were about to slip off his nose, and retorted unhurriedly:

"If I work hard for this kind of thing, I can go directly to my friend in Paris. Okay, my good citizen, it's late, don't waste our time."

"This is not a simple criminal case. If you leave it alone or ask someone to intervene behind the scenes, I'm afraid you will get a terrible result." McNeil has no fear. "I'm wondering, do you have complete confidence in this, or don't think about it at all?"

Herzog smiled and said sarcastically:

"Listen, no matter what direction I want things to go, I can find someone who is more qualified to intervene than you. You should promote insurance or wealth management products instead of discussing with the governor-general of South Africa about the cases."

McNeil watched the convoy drive into the villa area, feeling a moment of loss. Naturally, others will not value him at all.

"His Excellency is right. You are very suitable to be an insurance salesperson or help a bank sell financial products." The guard patted his right shoulder sympathetically, "Don't be discouraged, everyone is begging for food, and there will be opportunities in the future. "

"Then, I hope you forward this letter to Governor Herzog." McNeil took out a crumpled piece of letter paper, which was filled with densely packed fine prints. "His Excellency probably thought that citizens find him to make trouble. I am not surprised."

McNeil walked along the way back, and the street light suddenly went out halfway. He thinks he is unlucky; this may be a planned emergency power outage or accident. In any case, he must move forward in the dark. Unfortunately, McNeil did not know the layout of the city. He came here for no more than a week. How can he compare with the local residents? Unwilling to give up, McNeil wandering around the block, finally completely lost. He made up his mind to return to his temporary residence first. The security in the slum was not good, and he was worried about the safety of Old Jake.

Suddenly, a harsh gunshot came from McNeil's ear, breaking the silence of the night. He heard the direction of the gunfire and moved towards the source of the noise, and unexpectedly bumped into a stranger who had emerged from a side alley. McNeil got up from the ground, ignored the dust on his body, and asked the stranger who could not see his face:

"What happened?"

"I don't know, maybe the indigenous people have rebelled, or else the ABs have rebelled. The ghost knows how long our place can last." This person said grimly, "You should also get out of here. Leave it to the militia or the army."

McNeil’s reason told him to stay away from the battlefield as soon as possible. However, the blood that never died awakened the remaining fighting spirit in his heart. He has been away from the battlefield for decades, and his instinct tells him that he should fall on the battlefield like a soldier, not relying on various equipment and the liquid in the bottle to linger. Now, he has an excellent opportunity before him to return to his old line, perhaps to fight for justice, or just to satisfy his barbaric nature.

"I am a member of the army." McNeil said sternly. "Who is messing around here?"

The indifferent aura stunned the stranger. He looked at the fierce opponent in the faint moonlight, and stammered:

"Aboriginal, it's an aboriginal... the aboriginal slipped in."

McNeil bypassed the frightened passer-by and headed for the next block. In South Africa... No, the relationship between conquerors and natives is very bad throughout Africa. A similar situation also happened in the Britannian Empire. The lords from Europe squeezed everything in Africa recklessly, leaving only backwardness and poverty for the indigenous people. Some people are absorbed into the civil service or the church and army, while others can only live on reservations throughout their lives. Their only survival value is to play the original character of the cannibal character according to the script written for them by Paris, in order to demonstrate the greatness and glory of the conqueror-even unable to progress.

"You know, the Council only wants the indigenous people to dance in the village, and will never allow them to wear suits and work with us." The old Jake Land commented on the behavior of the governors-general.

McNeil was close to the fire, and a gun battle was taking place here. Unidentified armed men advanced under the cover of night and opened fire on the guards guarding the block. In contrast between the two sides, the opponents of the guards are naturally better. These indigenous people have obtained rifles and explosive weapons from unknown sources, and the guards retreat again and again. In fact, the guards do not care about the sabotage of the indigenous people in the city, but if such sabotage is at risk of endangering the true owner of the city, they must resolutely stop it.

"It's a miracle that the residents here can survive with frequent gun battles." McNeil approached the guard's line of defense from behind. "It is difficult for Paris to rule on such a restless land. Masters."

However, McNeil made another mistake. Before he could get close to the main line of defense of the guards, he was spotted by others wandering around. When he felt a hard object on his back, the battle-tested former commander reflexively asked:

"Which unit are you from?"

"The Third Battalion of the Fifth Guardian Division." A voice with a strong native accent replied, "Who are you?"

"Minuteman," McNeil replied briefly. In the past few days, he learned from the old Jake that there are militia organizations in almost all parts of Africa, and they are not built according to the usual organization and sequence, which gives him a chance to impersonate a militia.

"This is not a problem that the militia can solve. You didn't even bring a gun." The guard behind came to McNeil, and McNeil saw his dark skin that almost blended with the night.

"I'm from the Governor-general." McNeil said without hesitation. "You have to suppress the situation before it gets out of control."

The black guard looked at McNeil suspiciously, and finally gave up his intention to continue the questioning. He was afraid that he would really offend some great person, even if the man in a leather jacket in front of him was really just an unknown person, he could not be offended by a native like himself.

TBC

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The official name of the colony of EU in South Africa is called the Dominion of South Africa.


	5. OR1-EP1: Rainbow nation (3)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> McNeil took part in a gun battle on the street.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The EU military rank names in this article are based on the actual French army. Since some of the military ranks used by the French army in history are the same as the British military ranks, we assume that some of the titles are equivalent to its English name.

[Music for this Chapter](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IIaPV5tBs5g)

OR1-EP1: Rainbow nation (3)

Since the colonists from the north set foot on the dark continent for the first time, the unchanging lives of the natives for thousands of years have been completely overturned. Although history is very different from what McNeil knows about, some things will not change: by the 19th century, all of Africa became a colony of the EU, and there are also a few coastal areas affected by the Britannian Empire. While the Britannian Empire, symbolizing the remnants of the old world, competed in the Americas for the original Latin American colonies, the EU was stepping up its expansion into the grasslands of Central Asia and southern Africa. However, when the EU came to the southernmost part of the African continent, the local intricate sphere of influence taught these arrogant colonists a good lesson. As early as hundreds of years ago, colonists from the British Isles and the Netherlands settled there and established many self-governing institutions. They successfully escaped the storm that swept across Europe and suffered because of their connection with Britannia. Therefore, the EU cannot tolerate the existence of these dominions, and has successively launched several wars with the indigenous peoples, and completely annexed the two African Britannian dominions in South Africa.

Previously, the EU promised to the indigenous people that it would respect the independent kingdoms of the indigenous peoples and return to them the lands taken by the African Britannians from the indigenous peoples. Unexpectedly, when the EU completely seized control in South Africa, they immediately overturned the unreliable oath. Since then, EU immigrants, African Britannians, and indigenous people have formed a mutually hostile relationship. The three parties have unconcealed malice towards the other two parties and are planning to make itself become the sole master of South Africa. The EU has an unwritten rule, that is, governors-general from all parts of Africa must not let local descendants of European immigrants or Britannian immigrants take the post, and must be appointed by the European mainland. This rule was only broken recently, and Jacob Herzog became the first governor-general of Africa to have an immigrant origin-he had previously served as a director in the EU.

This kind of discrimination and contempt is top-down. Native Europeans are the most noble, European immigrants are second, Britannian immigrants are the third, and indigenous people are not being treated as human at all. Even decades ago, EU would send the indigenous people in cages to the zoo in Paris for visitors to visit. It is called "New Human Exhibition". This abominable behavior that must be shown during the holidays was finally abolished 30 years ago, but the situation in Africa has not improved. In order to suppress the more restless aboriginals, the civil or military management agencies recruited a large number of indigenous people to enter the local defense or garrison, let them aim their guns at their compatriots, in exchange for a chance to fill their stomachs.

The more McNeil understands these past events, the more pessimistic he is about EU's future in Africa. However, if an indigenous ruled Africa, he would only become the next target of annihilation. For this reason, even if it is just to save his life, he has to choose to stand on the opposite side of the indigenous people-he is not an indigenous person, even if there are thousands of indigenous people who are fighting each other with their compatriots for a living.

Not only the world history itself has undergone tremendous changes, even the guns in his hands are not the same as the weapons in his perception. The information found from the municipal library shows that gunpowder weapons have never become the origin of modern thermal weapons; on the contrary, most modern electrical equipment is driven by a magical mineral **Sakuradite** (known as the sage’s stone by ancients), which makes McNeil felt very novel. Perhaps some changes have taken place in the manufacturing principles of firearms, but as long as it is still a firearm instead of a sword, McNeil can skillfully use it to fight. They don’t have many bullets. The EU authorities, who are very disgusted with the indigenous people, have never distributed enough weapons and ammunition to the indigenous garrison. They can only use handguns against invaders with automatic rifles and high explosives.

"When did the battle begin?"

"Half an hour ago. These people...they will always try to sneak into the outskirts of the city to carry out sabotage activities. This kind of thing has happened often before, and it has become more and more frequent recently." An indigenous guard said, "We have not yet found out who provided their weapons."

It does not matter who provides weapons to the indigenous people, only the living have the opportunity to find out the truth. McNeil fired symbolically at the opposite side several times, but failed to hit any targets. The city after the power outage was very dim, and they did not carry night vision goggles on their bodies, so they could not detect the enemy's movements. He didn't give up, hiding behind the bunker, and from time to time he probed the fire from the end of the dark street to find out where the enemy was. When several indigenous militants fired randomly at the guards again, McNeil decisively fired at one of the enemies, hitting him in the chest. The native fell backward, and no one knew his fate.

"Hey, you must be a professional." The guard next to him looked at McNeil who returned to the back of the bunker approvingly. "I think you must have fought before."

"I have performed several more dangerous missions, nothing more." McNeil calculated a counterattack strategy, "This is an era of peace, and there is nothing better than not having a war."

According to the indigenous guards, although these indigenous invaders possess weapons far more powerful than theirs, they cannot use them properly. Many aborigines still treat firearms and explosives as some kind of magic, and even depict various symbols on the firearms, hoping to increase the hit rate and damage. An aboriginal guard vowed to say that he had seen some indigenous soldiers simply raise their guns above their heads to make prayers when shooting, and these people never cared about whether they actually hit the target or cared about aiming. The importance of goals. Those indigenous people who have received a certain education in the city certainly understand these basic modern scientific knowledges, but unfortunately their compatriots who are still in the mountains and forests have no chance to understand.

The gunfire stopped temporarily. McNeil seized the opportunity, slipped out of the bunker, and followed the edge of the street toward the enemy's sphere of influence. This is not an isolated invasion. The faction which has the ability to provide the indigenous people with weapons and equipment better than the Guardian force (although this is usually caused by the authorities withholding the materials of the Guardian force) and let the indigenous people attack the city behind the scenes will not be EU or South African native. Of course, the indigenous people do not have this ability. In this group, those who know nothing about modern civilization are still living in the tribe, while those who are obsessed with assimilating themselves into qualified **civilized people** don’t care about the life in the tribe at all. In a word, those indigenous people who have escaped their original fate will probably not assist their compatriots in rebelling.

The bullet grazed his ear. McNeil walked towards the destination without a word, and several natives stood in front of him. The foremost enemy took out a short knife and stabbed it towards McNeil's flanks. McNeil grabbed the enemy's right hand, pulled it along, and slammed into the opponent's mouth and nose. The native was hit and dizzy, and the knife was released. McNeil picked up the knife that was about to fall and made a provocative gesture at the natives behind. The enemy mumbled vague words, and then surrounded him in groups.

"I have to tell you the truth: you can't win. Now you have a chance to live if you lay down your weapons." McNeil shrugged, "Don't make meaningless sacrifices."

The indigenous people may not understand English, or they simply ignored McNeil's kindness and continued to attack McNeil. The first native made a punch at McNeil. McNeil swiftly avoided the opponent's fist, his left leg was stuck between the opponent's legs, his right hand pinched the opponent's throat, and easily threw the tall native to the ground. Seeing that his companion was knocked down, the second person rushed up quickly, but McNeil hit the jaw with a punch. The upper and lower teeth creaked and maybe several teeth were knocked out. He covered his bleeding mouth and backed away. The third person had just raised his rifle and was about to shoot, but McNeil threw out a dagger and nailed his right arm to the wall next to him. The young former commander picked up the rifle that fell to the ground and looked at the other enemies who were still eager to try.

"I will repeat once, now, get out." McNeil raised his rifle in a threatening manner, "Otherwise you will be hanged on the street lamp tomorrow."

This is an ancient method of lynching. Old Jake said that those who hate the natives the most will hang every native who dared to appear in the city before. However, nowadays indigenous people can also serve as civil servants, priests, and soldiers. Of course, there is no reason for such atrocities.

McNeil watched the two natives fled in a panic, and turned around and forced the three prisoners who had lost their fighting capacity to a corner. At this time, an inexplicable premonition reminded him of the possible danger. McNeil, who had always followed his instinct, quickly rolled on the ground and hid in the grass beside him. He glanced intently, and left a not-so-shallow bullet mark in place, beside a longer bullet-needless to say, a sniper was staring at him in secret.

The development of things went beyond McNeil's expectations. If the descriptions of the native guards of their compatriots are completely true, these natives who can't even target are not capable of selecting snipers, which shows that there are outsiders assisting natives to infiltrate the city. The three natives had already escaped. If McNeil showed up rashly, his fate would be conceivable.

"It's really interesting. It seems that these people have professional mercenaries to assist them in sabotage." McNeil is predicting where the snipers may ambush. He believes that there must be something wrong behind this inexplicable armed conflict. After thinking about it, McNeil threw out the leather jacket he was wearing. As soon as the dress flew out of the grass, it was penetrated by a bullet. McNeil took the opportunity to pick up the bullet left on the walk, quickly ran to the back of the phone booth on the street corner, and managed to escape the enemy's pursuit. He doesn’t feel bad about that dress. If he has the opportunity in the future, he can always buy a better one; however, if he urgently needs money now, this dress is the only thing he can save for money, otherwise he might as well sell newspapers with Old Jake.

The sound of army boots hitting the ground disturbed McNeil's thinking. Two armored vehicles were parked nearby, and dozens of soldiers were heavily armed and pounced on the indigenous armed men who were confronting the guards. A soldier spotted McNeil who was still hiding behind the phone booth, so he called his officer. A young officer with a big beard put on a big brimmed hat and walked towards McNeil.

"It looks like you probably don't speak French. Fortunately, I have learned a little English before." The bearded officer reached out to McNeil, "Which unit do you belong to?"

"Citizens passing by." McNeil replied, "You can treat me as if I am doing the right thing."

"It would be great if the citizens were conscious of yours. We have received the report a long time ago, but the superiors have not let us out. It seems that the contradiction between the defense forces from the homeland and the garrison is a long-term problem. "The bearded face was unhappy, "Then, do you have anything to report to us, **Mr. Model Citizen**?"

"The enemy has snipers," McNeil said. "This is the bullet they left behind."

The bearded officer took the slightly deformed bullet and checked it carefully with the headlights of other soldiers.

"We can't draw a conclusion now. We need detailed investigation and analysis." He returned the bullet to McNeil. "However, I am worried that some of us here are not willing to let the army know the truth, so this evidence is still left to you. Please tell us your name and home address so that we can contact you in the future."

"Michael McNeil, unemployed, sleeping on the street." McNeil replied briefly, "Which successful person are you?"

"From the 5th Infantry Regiment of the South African Defense Force in Transvaal, Major Gene Smilas." The bearded officer scribbled a few notes on a post, "Wait until the battle is over. After that, I hope to seriously investigate who caused this kind of tragedy that shouldn’t exist.”

Several more armored vehicles passed by on the road, leaving visible marks on the road. The road management department will definitely have a headache. They will blame these soldiers for ruthlessly rolling the roads that they have spent so much time on.

The communicator on Smilas' waist rang. He picked up this device, which looked quite similar to a mobile phone, and shouted inside:

"To repeat, the enemy ambushed snipers in the houses. Colonel Duttmann has allowed all means to suppress these criminals. If they dare to hold the people, they should be wiped out immediately.. That's it."

McNeil picked up the dusty leather jacket from the street and put it on him, watching the soldiers passing by.

"You dare to use violence?" he said with lingering fear.

"Don't care about them too much, Mr. McNeil. The people who live here are low-class people who can't even pay the rent. If they die, they will just die. They will not have any impact on the EU or even the city." Smilas explained indifferently.

TBC

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Character introduction:  
> Gene Smilas, Major of the EU Army. He came to Africa to gain more honor.


	6. OR1-EP1: Rainbow Nation (4)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> McNeil, who had participated in the battle, discovered that he had been assigned a new task.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The official language of the EU is French, so the dialogue between officials is usually in French.

[Music for this Chapter(scenes in the hospital)](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YmJ6c6XiWqc)

OR1-EP1: Rainbow Nation (4)

By the time Gene Smilas had dealt with the chaos on the street, it was already the next morning. He left his job and went straight to the nearby hospital to visit the model citizen he had recently met. The hospital has been surrounded by police cars and armored vehicles. Both wounded soldiers and civilians who have been accidentally injured have been sent here for rescue and treatment. Some people’s injuries have become so severe that they are unable to recover, so the doctors simply put them in the bags. The bearded officer bypassed his subordinates and reporters who were about to ask him some questions, and took the elevator from the underground parking lot to the door of a ward. The three officers were playing poker at the door. When the officer arrived, they all threw the poker on the ground. Smilas didn't care about his subordinates' dereliction of duty. He observed the internal situation through the window of the ward and asked:

"How is that person?"

"We said we planned to give him a thorough medical examination, but his physical fitness really surprised us." The officer nearest to Smilas picked up the playing cards on the ground. "We injected him with a powerful tranquilizer. But he didn't really fall asleep until two hours later."

In the melee that took place last night, Smilas, who was sent by the defense forces to suppress sabotage activities, found a man who claimed to be Michael McNeil near the place where the fighting broke out. This person may be a nearby citizen. He was involved in the battle for some reason after the battle. For Smilas, cleaning up these natives without basic combat skills is a simple task. After the crackdown ended, he immediately went to the trustee to investigate the identity of the citizen. To his surprise, the records of the local traffic management department and other related departments indicated that Michael McNeil never existed. Smilas' first reaction was that McNeil might be a foreign spy. He made an excuse to let McNeil go to the hospital for examination, and he went to the nearby streets to inquire about the situation.

"Sir, the Guardian officers reported that they had seen this man selling newspapers on the street five days ago." The soldier who was entrusted by Smilas to investigate returned and reported, "Except for the surrounding residents, no people have seen him anywhere before. We guess he may have entered the country illegally from a foreign country."

Foreign country, needless to say, is the Britannian Empire. Since the French Revolution, the successive monarchs of Britannia have carried out brutal and arbitrary rule. Almost every year, many Britannian civilians or slaves fled to the EU. In the age of intense internal strife, even the nobles will seek refuge in the EU. In the EU, English is only spoken in England, and McNeil's accent is not like the British at all, but more like a native Britannian. However, this kind of speculation lacks evidence, and it is a bit wrong to infer the identity of an unknown stranger based on accent alone.

Smilas came to Africa voluntarily for the sake of making meritorious deeds. If he cannot achieve merits commensurate with such self-exile, he would rather return to Europe. The more the natives or other opposition parties use force to fight, the more he can use the heads of these people to build his path to the pinnacle of life, but the road still seems to be long. From the bottom of his heart, he yearned for a new war to break out, preferably a full-scale war between the EU and the Britannian Empire. He will get a chance to be recorded in the history books and become the next Napoleon Bonaparte.

Smilas looked from a distance to the street where the black smoke was still emerging. There might be hundreds of people crowding to claim the bodies of relatives and friends, which had nothing to do with him. Aboriginal, African Britannians, no matter who is the winner, he will return to Europe alive to continue his career. Even if South Africa is in chaos, it will not overlap with his life. His reverie was interrupted by the deep cough behind him, and it turned out that McNeil, who had just walked out of the ward, came to him.

"Please sit down." Smilas pointed to the chair in the corridor, "I have something to confirm with you."

"If you really want to ask me some privacy questions, just put it bluntly, there is no need to secretly investigate by yourself after giving me anesthetics." McNeil exposed his disguise, "I have a clear conscience, there is nothing worthy of your investigation."

Smilas was angry for no reason. The young man in front of him was about his age, but with an unnatural indifference. He wanted McNeil to show certain fierce emotions, whether it was obedience or confrontation, it was better than this kind of painless indifference.

"Where are you from?"

"England." McNeil replied. "Otherwise, could it be France or Italy?"

"...Nonsense, the English accent is not like that at all." Smilas sneered. "I have dealt with these people. Each of them speaks their own set of English, but they can communicate with each other. Of course, based on my experience of reading news reports, your accent is more like a Britannian’s."

McNeil smiled awkwardly: "If you insist on thinking so, I can't produce enough reliable evidence to refute."

"This is not a shame, Mr. McNeil." Smilas thought he had grasped the other's weakness. "Listen, although there are all kinds of strange local rules here in Africa, we always treat you like compatriots in Europe, many famous and successful people have escaped from the empire. I don’t understand why you are so secretive about your origin. In my opinion, you are just stating that you have escaped from a totalism regime by chance, and not admitting a criminal record."

"If I use this status, the problem is even more serious." McNeil said seriously, "If I say that I am a native EU citizen, maybe you will only suspect that I have worked as a security guard, police or militia before; however, once you think that I am a stowaway or exile from the Britannian Empire, I will always carry a suspicious spy tag on me. The former soldier of your country and the former soldier of an enemy country are two different concepts."

McNeil's words reminded Smilas of some previously known dangerous cases. The EU cannot carefully review the experience of every exile. Those who are willing to come to seek refuge are freedom fighters, and some of these people are the undercover agents of the Britannian Empire. The spies hidden among the exiles once established a huge intelligence network in the EU. Such intelligence activities have been carried out for more than ten years before being discovered. The EU was furious across the country, and public protests forced the Council to pass related bills. In the future, they can repatriate or violently deport those who are suspected of collaborating with the enemy or who have violated EU’s laws.

"Mr. McNeil, please trust me. We have never been interested in your past experience and background, but we have to figure out why an English-speaking person suddenly appeared in a nearby neighborhood somehow. The police around the city don’t remember that someone like you entered.” Smilas took out a document from the bag beside him, “But the reason I am eager to find out the truth is that someone like you has something beyond ordinary. Unemployed vagrants who are skilled in soldier combat skills cannot wander in the city for a long time without legal identification materials-once you are considered a Britannian exile, in the current situation of international tension, your fate is conceivable."

McNeil glanced at the materials provided by Smilas. The officer used some methods to forge a set of documents that were sufficiently fake to allow him to live temporarily in South Africa as a legal identity. McNeil doesn't know Smilas' motives, and there must be sinister intentions behind the unprovoked kindness.

"Let me guess, what are you going to get in exchange for these documents?"

"My chief thinks that the bullet is the model used by Britannian firearms. He guessed that Britannian mercenaries are jointly planning sabotage operations with the indigenous people." Smilas was worried, "South African indigenous issues are always very serious. In recent years, it has been serious enough to affect public order. Governor-general Herzog has also considered many ways. Whether it is negotiation or the use of violent means to clean up, we shall do what must be done, but no matter which one he will choose, a reasonable explanation must be given to the public."

McNeil smelled a sense of danger. The South African defense forces does not want to be in charge, neither does the Guardian forces, and the issue of indigenous rebellion must be resolved. Presumably these decision makers have decided to replace them with outsiders who are not part of the formal sector to deal with the difficult situation.

"He can give orders directly. The Governor-general's power here is much greater than that of any local administrative officials of the same level." McNeil said calmly.

"Yes, but we all know that Governor-general Herzog has greater ambitions, instead of going home for retirement after finishing this term. If he has ruined himself or even the African Britannians he represents because of his indiscretion, it will not only mean the end of his own future, maybe he can’t resign alive.” Smilas explained helplessly, “This matter is a semi-open secret in South Africa, but any citizen who pays a little attention to the news will realize that the Governor-general's plan is very big."

The elevator door next to it opened, and a burly officer with five soldiers walked out from it. He saw Smilas who was talking to McNeil in a chair, and walked quickly towards the two of them, shouting:

"Alors, vous êtes ici maintenant. Quand la main-d'oeuvre que je vous ai demandé de trouver sera-t-elle en place?"

Smilas quickly got up and saluted: "C'est ça. Je prévois de trouver des personnes similaires pour recevoir une formation, en échange de la citoyenneté officielle."

McNeil looked at the middle-aged officer with a scar on his face, thinking that this giant man was probably not good at dealing with others. Before he could implement his original plan, he was forced to be involved in another conflict that he did not understand at all.

"D'accord, je crois en ton plan." Smilas' boss patted his military cap, making Smilas very nervous, "Lorsque le personnel est rassemblé, mélangez-les avec le peuple écossais. Nous ne pouvons plus perdre de temps à encercler et réprimer les damnés indigènes."

"Les écossais?" Smilas was surprised this time, "Que font-ils ici?"

"Qui sait? Il y a plus de deux cents membres du conseil à Paris, et chaque faction a son propre ensemble de plans pour la question sud-africaine. Peut-être quarante personnes ont mis leurs plans en pratique." The colonel said dissatisfiedly, "J'espère juste que l'administration militaire ne les associera pas aux Anglais. S'il n'y a plus d'Irlandais, nous devrons faire face à une guerre civile avant que les aborigènes ne soient éliminés."

After listening to Smilas' explanation, McNeil smiled knowingly. He was not a real Englishman and would not dislike such cold jokes. According to the history that McNeil learned, after Napoleon Bonaparte captured the British Isles, the United Kingdom government fled to the America, and the area was dismembered into multiple independent autonomous republics. Although the above three places tried to establish the **Commonwealth of England, Scotland and Ireland** , they finally failed completely and maintained the current divided independence. Ironically, however, Napoleon Bonaparte, who conquered all of Europe, was overthrown by the people who originally supported him for trying to take the last step. If Napoleon really succeeds, maybe EU should be called the Europa United Empire. The identity created artificially by the fragile common rule was disintegrated and reshaped by the European continent for more than a hundred years, and now no Scots believe that they belong to the same country as the English.

"Are you Colonel Karl Duttmann?"

"Yes." Colonel Duttmann responded, "At present, the task of destroying the indigenous people falls on us, and the defense forces have a heavy task, and they cannot use all their energy to deal with the indigenous people-unless we have evidence to convince Paris to send troops." He smiled and said to McNeil: "I guess these indigenous people are supported by the Britannians, as long as you can successfully find evidence, regardless of the outcome of this eradication, Governor-general Herzog will always be a legitimate reason for the army to continue its suppression." The officer with the scar on his face spoke unexpectedly and kindly, "Sir, since you are so active in this kind of adventure, I temporarily decided to entrust you to command others."

"Sorry, before I talk about how to go deep into the jungle and the tribe, I have another thing to do." McNeil remembered the incident that he first used as a breakthrough point. "Adalbert Herzog was accused of murder, have you heard of it?"

"I heard it a long time ago, but it doesn't have much to do with us." Colonel Duttmann didn't care at all. "This kind of thing should be for the Governor-general to worry about himself. Since he was a high official in Paris, it is enough to interfere in the trial."

"No, this is a conspiracy." McNeil wanted to prove his assumptions. "Although local violence has existed before, the recent abnormal increase only started after Governor-general Herzog took office. Besides, the conflict between Adalbert Herzog and the deceased was far from serious enough to force him to kill others when this would cause trouble for his father."

Colonel Duttmann looked at McNeil like a monster.

"Citizen, where were you born?"

"Institute." McNeil replied.

"I understand, maybe some rumors are true." The colonel seemed to be thinking, "Then, I will give you ten days. If you can't do it, give up immediately. We don't want Governor-general Herzog’s personal problems to give the army a disadvantage in public opinion."

TBC

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Character introduction:  
> Karl Duttmann, Colonel of the EU Army, German. He is the commander of the Fifth Infantry Regiment.


	7. OR1-EP1: Rainbow Nation (5)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> McNeil went to find a priest to inquire about the case.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EU churches cooperate with each other as a whole, but the differences between the large churches still exist.

[Music for this Chapter (Scenes in the Church)](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Oum8AiYl314)

OR1-EP1: Rainbow Nation (5)

The harder the life is, the less will it take to take care of people’s residence. Old Jake's house has always been as sloppy as a garbage dump. In order for McNeil to have a suitable place to handle his work, the old man immediately decided to start cleaning the house, which made McNeil a little embarrassed. In the morning of the next day, the old newspaper seller walked into the rudimentary residence with a stack of magazines and newspapers, and continued to analyze the information with McNeil. He didn't want to care about it, but since McNeil gave him 100 euros from the activity funds issued by the military, Old Jake seemed to suddenly realize that the matter was profitable. If they really let the only son of Governor-general Jacob Herzog escape from prison, the Governor-general in South Africa will surely reward them with many benefits that they would never imagine in this life.

When McNeil put the paper money in front of him, old Jake almost felt the precursor of a heart attack.

"How much did they give you?" he asked tentatively. "It's not a small amount of money... it does to me."

"Even though they said they didn't want to cause trouble, the army probably didn't want to see that the people they had cultivated were ruined by suspicious cases." McNeil poured out all the money in the envelope. "This is the funds provided by a colonel. He said that the 1,000 euros should be used as funds for our investigations in the next ten days. He didn't expect us to find any evidence at all. Let us improve our lives."

Old Jake laughed, he calmed down after laughing, and asked cautiously:

"So, you just took this job? Just the two of us? A vagrant and an old man who sells newspapers to find evidence for the governor-general's son?"

"I think we should do something challenging. Even if we get nothing, the money will be considered to make up for our recent losses." McNeil took out a copy from a nearby magazine and started looking for the name of the deceased. There is another point: Although they are absent-minded, this kind of commitment itself gives us a temporary position-a civilian person appointed by the military to conduct investigations."

The person suspected of being killed by Adalbert Herzog was named Jorge Dias, a lawyer and one of the famous social figures who have frequently spoken out for indigenous rights. After the lawyer started his professional career, the first case he took was related to the indigenous people. Since then, his every move has always been connected with the indigenous people of South Africa. The proposal for granting citizenship to indigenous people only attracted attention two or three years ago. Previously, this kind of appeal did not enter the mainstream of public opinion. Jorge Dias published articles in several newspapers and magazines, openly supporting this initiative in terms of legal and moral values.

"If a practitioner of any profession speaks frequently on topics that he is not familiar with, most of them are encouraged or supported by others." Old Jake took out a magazine called "The New Order", "Jorge Dias is a lawyer. What policy does he know? You see, these newspapers and magazines are all run by Italians."

"Isn't Jorge Dias a Portuguese?" McNeil took the "New Order" and turned to "Isolation Yesterday, Isolation Today, Isolation Forever" on page 23, "Why does he write articles in French in an Italian newspaper?"

"Mike, this is our own problem." Old Jake explained triumphantly, "Italy has always been one of the most active areas of our EU thinking. Turin is also synonymous with fairness and justice. Only Italians dare to stand up to Any pressure from power to continue to publish these contents, you must know that even in the most sympathetic regions, the citizens there still have serious concerns about granting them full citizenship."

Even if Jorge Dias was so active in speaking out for the program he advocated, no one would care about the lawyer's resume before he died. After he himself was killed, various media came up like a carrion fly, and all the stories of Jorge Dias since his birth were turned upside down. Some people say that his godfather is a pastor of indigenous origin, so he has an inexplicable sympathy for the indigenous people since he was a child; others say that Jorge Dias once traveled in the Britannian Empire for two years, after seeing the tragic situation of slaves under the rule of the empire, he was worried that the EU would use the same method to deal with the indigenous people after returning to EU... Various speculations made the true information more and more indistinguishable. Maybe only the parties directly related to the incident know the truth.

"Is this statement credible?" Old Jake saw a newspaper saying that Jorge Dias and Adalbert Herzog were high school classmates. "They didn't seem to have much contact before. One is African Britannian, the other is a native Portuguese..."

"Jorge Dias usually lives in Angola, but it belongs to Southwestern Africa. In my current capacity, I will have trouble entering the colony." McNeil cut off his thoughts on investigating in Angola. "I only hope his friend or colleague is still in South Africa, preferably in Transvaal."

At two o'clock in the afternoon, McNeil went out to buy a Coke, just when he ran into the soldier appointed by Smilas to inform him to meet with relevant witnesses. After McNeil returned to the house and said goodbye to Jake, he drove to the church two kilometers away. He previously talked to Smilas about social personnel related to Jorge Dias. At that time, Smilas said that the lawyer often went to various places in the world with the assistance of the church. Perhaps the church could be one of the breakthrough points. After finding the clergyman who had been with Jorge Diaz to investigate in Britannia, Smilas quickly sent someone to inform McNeil and asked him to go and meet the priest.

"According to his recent itinerary, Alexandros Palaskas left Europe last month and made a special trip to South Africa to meet with Jorge Diaz." The soldier handed McNeil a report, “Earlier this month, Priest Palaskas published an investigation report on the living conditions of indigenous miners in South Africa and accused our local companies in South Africa of concealing casualties in the name of the church.”

McNeil was used to all kinds of news that he had never heard of. Even if someone told him tomorrow that Franklin Roosevelt was resurrected, he would not be surprised.

"You seem to be afraid of the church."

"Church? They have a big business, and they are much better than our self-made companies and immigrants." The driver who drove McNeil said without looking back, "Fortunately, they have become a charity here with us. In the empire across the ocean, the church is one of the sharpest butchers in the hands of the emperor."

When he saw the priest, McNeil couldn't help but mourned for a few seconds in his heart for his glorious head. It is hard for him to imagine how a young man in his thirties became bald, either because he was under too much work pressure, or because his mental pressure was beyond ordinary people's understanding. After sending away a group of praying citizens, the chubby Priest Palaskas and McNeil sat on the bench in the church hall and chatted casually about Jorge Dias.

"Do you represent the army or the governor-general?"

"It's all the same." McNeil didn't want to talk about this issue. "I heard that Lawyer Dias went to the Britannian Empire with you. Is this true?"

"It's true." Palaskas nodded solemnly. "In 204 years of the Republican calendar, a crisis related to indigenous people broke out again in the southern part of the Britannian Empire due to the continuous reclaiming of the Amazon rainforest. At that time, the Pope signed a statement jointly with the Patriarch of Constantinople and hoped that the church would intervene to prevent the tragedy from happening again."

The three superpowers in the world each use completely different calendars. The EU uses the republican calendar created by France and a set of metric units, while the Britannian Empire is based on the ancestor Alwin I (Celtic King). The year of defeating the Romans is designated as the **First Year of the Ascension Throne Britannian Calendar** , referred to as ATB or Imperial Calendar. In the 204th year of the Republican calendar, that is, in 1995, according to the report found in the newspapers by McNeil, the Britannian Empire carried out mass killings of the remaining indigenous peoples in the Amazon rainforest. The cruel methods made the European Union’s most conservative media start to criticize. Unexpectedly, the State Church of the Empire did not stand with the emperor, but agreed with the church to send an observer mission to stop the atrocities. At that time, the deputy head was the priest Palaskas, who was born in Greece.

"Why did Jorge Dias choose to follow you to the Britannia Empire?"

Palaskas thought for a while, and then replied: “From a cultural perspective, Brazil and Portugal are similar. Lawyer Dias has done a lot of work in Angola and Mozambique before. He wants to learn more about foreign countries, especially the empire’s cruel rule over the natives in Brazil."

From time to time, citizens appeared in the church. They greeted the priest in a friendly manner, and the priest always responded with a smile. McNeil carefully observed the other's facial expressions, and as long as there was a slight difference, he could ask a question that would expose the priest to his flaws.

"He is a lawyer, and a lawyer has always been a job that can make a lot of money. Why doesn't he continue to make money in the EU and go to the Americas to take such a big risk to conduct investigations that are not welcome by the locals?"

Palaskas reflexively grabbed the cross hung around his neck and said something to him. After a long while, he slowly opened his eyes and said heavily:

"He told me about this matter. He chose to be a lawyer for justice, not for money."

"Justice is just a concept, Father Palaskas." McNeil immediately retorted. "I think the executioners of the empire will also think they are exercising their justice."

"Some things are more important than money." Palaskas sighed, "He collected a lot of valuable information there. He was arrested several times by the imperial police, and once was almost executed on the spot. But what really let us all feel sad is that although he has delivered a lot of news to the country, no mainstream media in EU is willing to report positively. These materials have been in his hands for a whole year. I don’t know whether these reporters and newspapers did not have the courage or were still not interested at all."

McNeil opened the briefcase he had borrowed from Smilas, took out the newspaper he had found, and handed it to Palaskas. In an obscure corner, someone promoted the latest work of lawyer Jorge Dias.

""Mist Moon Liberator" has always been against the Council and the consul." McNeil said to Palaskas, who is still reading the newspaper, "After the investigation has been over a year, only those politicians who want to use this kind of propaganda to create momentum for certain special events are willing to publish these investigation reports."

"It's nothing weird." Palaskas rubbed his red eyes. "Mr. McNeil, the backstage of "Mist Moon Liberator" are Britannian-Africa Bank and Iberian-Africa Power Company, Governor-general Herzog himself even served as an executive director of the former... By the way, he had not resigned at that time."

"This kind of statement cannot be ambiguous." McNeil pursued him, "Have Jorge Dias ever indicated to you that he might turn to Governor-general Herzog or others to express his personal comments?"

Palaskas uneasily placed his hands on his knees, clutching his vestments, and replied hesitantly: "...I can't remember. Maybe he did ask a lot of people for help. This is all inference."

The door of the church was pushed open again. Three soldiers walked to Smilas who was dozing off at the door and woke him up. Smilas was full of displeased face. He listened to the reports of the soldiers half asleep and half awake, strode towards McNeil, and whispered:

"The sniper was arrested. He is an African Britannian. However, he has committed suicide."

McNeil paced back and forth in front of Father Palaskas unconsciously. There were many clues in his hands, but most of them could not help him sort out a clear chain of evidence. He is a combat expert and not a criminal investigator. Perhaps he has indeed investigated some military-related cases in his life, and he is not as good as a professional after all.

"Priest, why did you choose to come to South Africa from the mainland recently?"

"Lawyer Dias told me that Governor-general Herzog is seeking advice from local people on a new bill and is also seeking strong support from his local allies." Palaskas was a little trembling. "He said that this is not only the relationship between the immigrants and indigenous peoples of the two places, but also the relationship between South Africa and Southwestern Africa, Central Africa, and the East African Commission. It is obvious that the recent frequent violence and the indifference of the neighboring authorities have made Governor-general Herzog on the verge of an outbreak. I heard that Governor-general Herzog is going to set up a church school to provide education for the indigenous people, following the example of Southwestern Africa. His consulting agency invited us to South Africa to attend the meeting."

Jacob Herzog's identity provides him with a certain degree of convenience, but also limits his options. Under normal circumstances, the governor-general can only make decisions based on his identity. Unless this identity restrains him enough to make him lose all hope, he will completely abandon this label and seek assistance from other groups, such as the natives themselves. However, if the Europeans' discrimination against African Britannian is not resolved, then indigenous citizenship is a false proposition.

"Major Smilas, will the army reimburse the cost of train tickets or air tickets?" McNeil suddenly asked a new question.

"What are you going to do?"

McNeil took the water bottle that Smilas handed him, took a few mouthfuls, and said:

"I changed my mind; we still have to go to Angola to have a look."

TBC

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Administrative Commission is a colony management agency established by the EU in Africa, and its chief is the Commissioner of the Office.


	8. OR1-EP1: Rainbow Nation (6)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> McNeil went to Angola to investigate the education situation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: This article may contain offensive language. These terms are common in a racially discriminatory society, but they should not appear in reality.

OR1-EP1: Rainbow Nation (6)

Michael McNeil and Jake Land were sitting by the window, enjoying the countryside scenery outside. The railway line that runs through Africa used to be an important part of the EU's rule and construction of Africa. Now it has gradually declined with the changes of the times and the development of other modes of transportation. From then on, people who chose to take the train regarded it more as part of their travel, and if they were busy on the road, they could choose other methods. On the same train, hundreds of passengers came from different communities and groups. Some regarded the train as a backward thing that should have been eliminated long ago, while others only wandered in the underdeveloped areas of southern Africa for their entire lives. Looking at the happy black faces, McNeil only felt a little sad. In their eyes, perhaps Transvaal is already the most prosperous area within their cognizance, and they absolutely cannot imagine or believe that Paris, Pendragon and Luo Yang still exist in the world.

"I have never been to Angola in my life." Old Jake said excitedly. He was wearing a straw hat, a light blue short-sleeved shirt, and a watch bought from a thrift dealer on his right hand. He seems to be no different from those old people who often travel to the country. The difference is that he doesn't have any priceless properties or comfortable mansions in the city. He is just a poor old man who can't even pay the rent. " It was promoted in the newspapers that Angola is the most successful model region for autonomy and assimilation. I have always been dubious about this."

"That is where the church played an important role. The piety and fanaticism of the Spanish and Portuguese for the faith cannot be compared with citizens in other parts of the EU." McNeil cut an article from the newspaper, "Jorge Dias is a Portuguese, and all his thinking about the future destiny of the indigenous people is influenced by his cultural background. If the media in both the EU and Africa regard Angola in Southwest Africa as a construction model, the views put forward by the him to the Governor-general must be based on Angola."

Outside the borders of South Africa, to the west is another African colony under EU’s control, **Southwest African Commission**. Among the many colonies in Southwest Africa, Angola has an important position. On the one hand, this is due to the continuous struggle of the local indigenous people for decades. On the other hand, some EU officials who are interested in reforming the African governance model continue to criticize the original policy. The result of this kind of struggle and compromise was that the EU decided to grant Angola a certain degree of autonomy more than two decades ago, although it is still under the management of the Southwest African Commission.

"Are you interested in visiting mainland Europe?"

"Forget it, I don't have that much money." Old Jake flinched, "Africa suits me well, and the pace of Europe is too fast."

"That's right. Recently, the homeland government has made a new interpretation of the pension issue." McNeil said disappointedly. "There are thousands of people in Estonia who took to the streets to protest, all of whom can survive only on pensions. Poor guys."

The prosperity of Europe has nothing to do with them. Even if the EU unified the world, Jake Land would only be a poor old newspaper seller, and McNeil would still be a vagrant. Old Jake is used to not being moved by the arguments on paper. This cheap mood can be imitated vividly by hiring a crappy clown. McNeil told Old Jake that this investigation was not so much a search for information related to the murder case, as it was to find an opportunity for Jake to temporarily escape the days of being forced to make a living.

McNeil frowned when he saw that there were many black people working on the farm by the roadside. Legally speaking, slavery was abolished long ago, and in fact it still exists to varying degrees. He looked at the old Jake who was napping in the seat, lowered his head and continued to think about the problem he needed to deal with. Unfortunately, a black man next to him stopped him:

"Sir, are you interested in hearing our proposition?"

"Please." McNeil nodded.

"That's it. We are members of the Flat Earth Association. We hope that more people can learn the truth about the world we live in." The black man took out a leaflet and handed it to McNeil. "From more than 30 years ago, a group of conspirators concocted false propaganda about the world. They used various methods to deceive the public, making many people think that our world is a sphere..."

McNeil interrupted him impatiently:

"... Do you mean that the photos and videos taken on **Apollo's Chariot** are all fake? Besides, what does it have to do with me whether the world is a plane or a sphere?" He learned from old Jack's reprimand Said, "Brother, you should get a job instead of caring about the shape of the world."

Everyone in the carriage roared with laughter, and the atmosphere suddenly became active.

"Go back and grow sugar cane and cotton!" someone shouted at the black man, "your minds are only worthy of understanding this!"

The black man left the carriage angrily, perhaps in the carriage next door to continue to promote his fallacy. McNeil returned from the toilet and found that old Jake had just woke up, so he told the old man what had just happened.

"This kind of thing is very common. Everyone may have a set of absurd statements about the laws of the world." Old Jake buttoned his straw hat on the table. "I used to think it was the church who encouraged these superstitions, but later the church itself admitted its mistakes. Darwin was even named Saint Darwin in the Britannian Empire."

The final station of the train is Luanda, where McNeil and Old Jake are going to visit a church school mentioned by Jorge Diaz in their article. When they got out of the car, they found that the black man who had previously promoted the concept of flatness to the passengers was being escorted to the police car by two policemen, and there were two well-dressed gentlemen behind them swearing.

The two dared not think further, they immediately left the train station. McNeil came to Angola smoothly according to the false certificate provided by the army. Although he also considered visiting the local area for a few more days, the consequences would be disastrous if he was exposed. The two found a taxi near the railway station and went to the famous church school.

The taxi driver was a black man in his fifties. Seeing the two passengers who were suspected of being foreign tourists, he eloquently introduced the customs of Angola to the two. McNeil chatted with each other casually, hoping to learn more specific news.

"We are here to investigate the level of education in Angola." McNeil lied that he was an investigator sent by the relevant department. "According to some sociologists, they believe that widespread poverty is directly related to insufficient education. Without fair education, we cannot get rid of the high poverty rate in Africa. Not to mention the tribal-controlled scholastic model in North Africa. Angolan education has been praised by many people. We are here to confirm this rumor. "

"Exaggeration." The driver couldn't hear the slightest joy in his tone. "If it is said that illiterate literacy is a certain educational achievement, then we do have many such so-called achievements; however, this does not save those poor."

"I knew it was like this." Old Jake sighed, "These people are dark hearted! Even if they don't do anything, they can promote themselves as great ones; if they make a little achievement, they must think that they shall be saints."

In addition to the well-known problem of church schools, there is another hidden danger in Angola and other areas bordering South Africa, which is the indigenous people in the reserve. These reservations are usually on the dividing line between South Africa and other Commissions, and some are not even in South Africa at all. Cross-border attacks by indigenous people in South Africa cannot be stopped by other public offices. According to some unreliable accounts, some indigenous people were trained by the older generation of guerrilla fighters who had fought in Angola. This is also confirmed by their methods of attacking cities and causing panic with mass casualties. The strange thing is that the indigenous people did not attack other colonies that were closer, but went all the way to trouble South Africa.

"Have you been to high school?"

"High school." The driver said, "At that time, it was different from now!... The school didn't teach anything, and the price of books was scary. If we want to learn more, it's enough to make us bankrupt. Who still wants to learn? My former boss said to me, **you should learn more, learn more skills, don’t spend all day drinking and fighting**... For the sake of God, if I have money, I will also do something more meaningful."

The driver parked the car in front of the school. McNeil and Old Jake glanced at each other's expressions, and they both noticed a clear lack of self-confidence.

"Don't panic, let's say that we were sent by Father Palaskas." McNeil coughed a few times. "We need to know the employment status of their graduates."

Old Jake knew that he and McNeil relied on continuous felicitations to achieve their goals. As long as the people they contacted didn't seriously confirm them, no one would realize that they were conducting investigations under the guise of others. Even if someone really called the army, considering that Colonel Karl Duttmann personally approved McNeil's actions, as long as it was not criticized by a minister or commander, he could withstand the pressure. After McNeil had a few conversations with the guard, several priests came out to greet them and invited them to the principal. Palaskas’ name is a great sign. Not everyone has the guts to go to the Britannian Empire to investigate the atrocities. The Greeks once again proved themselves with courage. Regardless of the Orthodox or Catholic Church, the one who can maintain the original heart is the good religion.

The principal briefly introduced the school to McNeil, and then he and McNeil began to discuss the living conditions of the graduates.

"Unfortunately, our mission school, which is open to the indigenous people, can only ensure that they live the lives of ordinary citizens. As for higher-level pursuits, we cannot provide that kind of education." The principal pointed to the form on the desk. "Nowadays, universities’ entry barriers are getting higher and higher, but relevant departments invest less and less in basic education. Not only that, many universities require applicants to have excellent learning abilities, but also unreasonably require them to be multi-talented... Oh God, most people are lucky to be able to do one thing well in their lives. Where are there so many all-rounders in the world?"

McNeil glanced at the form and asked bluntly:

"What is the definition of this **ordinary citizens**? It is guaranteed that they will not be included in the poor?"

"Yes, that's all." The principal opened his hands. "Only a few people really become successful people who can help others."

However, most of these people will choose to go to Europe instead of staying in Africa, and they may think that Europe is more suitable for them. As a result, education in Africa is a dead end, and the outstanding people that are finally cultivated have become part of EU. Africa is facing a vicious circle of brain drain and a continuous cycle. The church cannot do anything about it. This is supposed to be the work of the relevant EU departments, and the church has no intention to clean up the mess for them.

"I want to look at the family situation of this year's graduates."

"Okay, I will find it for you personally. You can watch TV for a while." The principal left the office and went to find another document. Old Jack turned on the TV set in the corner and tuned to the English news channel. The news on the French channel is certainly more authoritative, but he, a native English speaker, has no reason to force himself to read French all day.

"Dear viewers, an urgent news is inserted below." As soon as they turned on the TV, the two found that the host was reading the temporarily written speech with a face and dignity. "According to the accurate news, the Emperor Stephen II of the Britannian Empire had a heart attack. The infarction rescue was invalid, and he passed away in Pendragon at about 11 am today. At present, the Ministry of Foreign Affairs of the Britannian Empire has not made any other statements. According to the announcement of the royal family half an hour ago, Crown Prince Charles will temporarily replace the head of state..."

Old Jake was taken aback. He looked at McNeil who was also in shock, and said to himself:

"That old guy died like this?"

This will happen sooner or later. Stephen II is over ninety years old, and his grandson Crown Prince Charles is over forty years old. Originally, this throne would not be Charles' turn anyway, and his father, Crown Prince Edmund, was the true heir. However, the previous crown prince Edmund was assassinated thirty years ago, and his wife was also killed in the assassination. The whereabouts of the eldest son Victor is unknown. The old emperor Stephen II regarded Edmund's second son Charles as his only hope, and soon announced that Charles would be made the prince and cultivated vigorously.

"People are inherently dead."

"I know, I know." No one knows whether he thinks of his own age or seeing Stephen II's children and grandchildren while himself being alone, the old Jake is sad. "It's a mercy for him, and he will die in such a rapidly fatal emergency. I want to say that this kind of executioner should struggle in pain for three or four days before dying...Of course, if I have such a day, I hope I die faster and don’t suffer in vain."

McNeil looked at the man with a firm and cold expression on the TV screen, thoughtfully.

"I heard that none of the crown princes of the Britannia Empire can successfully inherit the throne."

"That's natural, because every crown prince has countless brothers and sisters or uncles and aunts staring at his throne." Old Jake leaned on the armchair, "As for the new emperor, God save the Emperor!"

TBC

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Although there was once an Empress in the Britannian Empire, in most cases, the heirs were men.


	9. OR1-EP1: Rainbow Nation (7)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Before leaving Angola, McNeil suffered a strange robbery.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Angola is the core of the Southwest African Commission. The local residents generally speak Portuguese.

OR1-EP1: Rainbow Nation (7)

Another old emperor of the Britannian Empire, which was trapped in the internal struggle between the royal family and aristocratic groups, has passed away. This is not a great thing in the eyes of citizens of other countries. Ever since Ricardo von Britannia replaced the Tudor dynasty to establish the Britannia Empire, the empire has been shrouded in murder, usurpation and court conspiracy. In history, there has never been a crown prince able to successfully inherit the throne, they were either forced to give up their inheritance rights or were killed. Changing one emperor will not solve the problem, and ten more emperors will not get any better, at least outsiders think so. Citizens living in EU will talk about the gossip that came from nowhere after a meal, and talk about the secrets of the palace of the Britannia Empire. Besides, they don’t want to spend their minds to truly understand the country on the other side of the ocean. Just as the indigenous people only need to satisfy their **primitive** imagination, the Britannian Empire only needs to conform to a stereotype imagined by the public that is backward and closed and enforces the ancient absolute monarchy laws.

"After this meal, let's leave Angola and go to Rhodesia." McNeil and Old Jake were dining at a fast-food restaurant. "We can't find new clues about Lawyer Dias for the time being. If we can know about what Adalbert Herzog did before the incident, we may be able to draw some more accurate conclusions."

McNeil has always disliked fast food, and he didn't want to mess up his recovery to a young body. However, Old Jake's answer is that for people like him who don't know how to cook and live in poverty, eating fast food is already considered the greatest luxury. After obtaining McNeil's permission, they ordered some meat in a restaurant on the roadside and planned the next itinerary.

"I didn't refute you. I'm almost eighty years old, and I will have to hang it on the wall within a few years—sorry, no one will hang me on the wall." Old Jake sipped Coke, pointing at McNeil, "You're right, it's just useless to me. It's so funny to let people who are dying pay attention to their health."

"No, I will think of a way to hang your photo on the wall to be admired by others, and write a line below: **An ordinary citizen who has worked hard all his life,** and then put it at the door of those luxury hotels to make some blush People take a look carefully."

"I sometimes wonder if there is really a God in the world, or the God has heard my prayer recently." Old Jake looked at the food left on the plate in a daze, "In the past few days after meeting you, I did many things that I have never had the opportunity to do in my life, it seems that you were sent by God to give me a little fun in the last few years of my life."

Old Jake guessed about McNeil's past. An unemployed vagrant with a Britannian accent, with fighting skills far beyond ordinary soldiers, perhaps he is indeed a deserter from Britannia. The old man does not despise deserters. Those who dare to flee from absolute obedience and risk huge risks may also have a sense of courage. However, McNeil never admits these speculations, nor does he want to reveal his identity. Only when others are pressed tightly can he speak symbolically worthless words to divert others' attention.

Human eyes can't tell lies; old Jake believes this. There is always enthusiasm in McNeil's eyes, he is eager to do something, and is always on the road. This kind of person is born to work hard, not getting a moment of peace, and seeking pleasure from pain and suffering is the norm. However, whenever Old Jake compares him with the unfading passersby in his memory, he can't help but feel sad. When he was young, he experienced the largest second war in human history. EU established the supreme authority over most of the world through two world wars. Countless youths were sent to the battlefield for illusory slogans or other unreliable reason to dedicate their lives.

"My experience tells me to think less and do more." McNeil put the empty dinner plate next to the nearby trash can. "If the conditions don't deteriorate, go to Mozambique—"

Several crisp noises interrupted McNeil. More than a dozen unidentified people, heavily armed, walked into the restaurant and aimed their guns at the shocked diners. Among these people, there are blacks and whites. The leader is a middle-aged black man wearing sunglasses. He is carrying a shotgun and looks very prestigious.

"...Hand over all the valuable things. We only want money and don't want to owe lives." The leader said in English, "Precisamos de mais dinheiro parasalvar nosso camarada e continuar a revolução."

Old Jake looked at McNeil in a panic, McNeil shook his head at him.

"Money is a small matter, we can still get back." He whispered, "It's important to save our lives."

The waiters and bosses in the restaurant may be used to robberies. They didn't even try to call the police. Instead, they took out a few stacks of banknotes from the cashier and gave them to the robbers. All the tourists in the restaurant were not immune from the fate of being ransacked. Those wearing jewelry were especially unlucky, and they were searched all over the place.

The robbers were surprised to find that the old and the young in the corner of the restaurant continued to talk and laugh. The leader walked towards McNeil, only to see the latter pat a few banknotes by the dining table, and said without looking up:

"That's it, no more."

The leader took the money and looked at McNeil suspiciously as if nothing had happened. It is not the first time that he has done this business. He has seen all kinds of victims, and most of them are scared to death, for fear that these robbers will send them into the coffin with their hands shaking. It was the first time he saw victims as calm as McNeil and Old Jake.

"You two are here to travel too?"

"This is my uncle. He has brain cancer. He will not live for a few days. I will take him out to fulfill his last wish." McNeil sighed. "My uncle has always wanted to travel to Angola. It’s a pity that he can’t afford the money, even travelling in South Africa. Last month, I helped him sell everything that he could sell, packed his luggage, and waited for death after he came back from the game."

McNeil did not hesitate to come up with a set of lies that he had prepared. Ordinary people have emotions. Even a robber won’t become hard-hearted quickly. McNeil said something that both tourists and robbers in the restaurant were touched. It was really sad for those who heard it, and there were tears for those who saw it. The leader took off his sunglasses, wiped his eyes, and returned the money to McNeil.

"Take it... we don't grab money from the poor." He thought for a while, then took out dozens of euros to the old man, "I'm sorry for letting you see the truth about Angola."

McNeil watched the group of people walk out of the restaurant in twos and threes. After riding the possibly robbed jeep and driving away, he came to the counter and asked the collapsing cashier:

"Is it common? Why don't you call the police?"

The other tourists left the restaurant shouting and cursing. They flinched in front of the robbers, and now they finally found a chance to be a hero. The boss explained with a smile, but was unavoidably scolded by angry tourists. Being robbed on the way to travel can almost destroy all the pleasant memories of the entire journey. This experience may provide a lot of material for those who are good at bragging. After they return home without incident, they can publicize with great fanfare how they survived a gang of vicious bandits, and maybe they can make up the details of their fight with the bandits. If bragging is also a felony, those who shape extraordinary experiences by adding fuel and vinegar may fill all the squares of the world.

"I've said before that doing this will hurt ourselves sooner or later, but now it's our turn to suffer." The boss sat at the counter with his head clutched, "How can there be any reason for specially trained saboteurs to save ourselves from disaster?"

"Who trained them?" McNeil became alert.

"Who else can? Only those mad dogs and mental patients who see everyone bite can do this. They have already reached the level of ruining our own territory for their poor salary and reputation." The boss cleaned up. As the endgame, his face was full of depression, "I have seen it with my own eyes, there are French people with a northern accent commanding them..."

Things started to get convoluted, McNeil and Old Jake were still talking about it when they boarded the train to Rhodesia. The indigenous reservation itself is located at the junction of South Africa and other colonies. The neighboring colonies allowed indigenous armed forces to attack South Africa through loopholes in regulations. If this kind of behavior still has the support of Paris, it proves that someone deliberately wants to bring down Governor-general Herzog or the entire South Africa. Herzog has made many enemies in his life, so many that he probably can't remember it. It is reasonable for people with old grievances to take personal revenge, but the stability and prosperity of the entire EU are regarded as a bet, and the price is too big.

"I can't figure out why there are still white men in that band of robbers."

"Boy, if it weren't for me to be too old to hold a gun, I would have nowhere else to do but join them." Old Jake said ashamed. "In the eyes of the Governor-general, there are blacks and whites; here, blacks are just like white people, they are poor people who can't make ends meet."

"Indigenous people are not human at all."

"Do you think the Council is more afraid of the indigenous people or the African Britannians?" Old Jake looked at the field outside the window, where there were still countless black people working on the farmland. The use of more advanced equipment can improve efficiency, but since some people claimed that doing so would cause a large number of indigenous unemployment, the EU has abandoned the idea of comprehensively promoting more advanced agricultural production models in Africa. After all, it is more important than anything to ensure that these people can be chained in the field instead of wandering idly.

"The indigenous people have never given up the idea of independence. They will definitely choose independence if they have the opportunity." Frankly speaking, McNeil has no sense of belonging to EU or Britannia. He lives in an era when human beings are united into a unified country, and the barriers of race and language are gradually disappearing, so he always disagrees with this kind of discrimination that still stays in the old age. However, he really cannot tolerate the monarchy of the Britannia Empire, so it seems that the EU has at least preserved a little face.

"That's your opinion." Old Jake knocked on the table. "From the perspective of Paris, the African Britannians are always more dangerous than the natives. The natives are a group of uncivilized apes in their eyes. They can be wiped out at any time; the African Britannians have the entire new world standing behind them, what will happen if they decide to help their original motherland?"

Old Jake's voice disturbed the nearby travelers, who looked at the old man who spoke out loudly.

"It stands to reason that you are of the same language and the same species." McNeil found that the old man might have some bad memories, and immediately decided to change the subject. However, Old Jake didn't seem to have the intention to stop. He gasped heavily and continued preaching:

"When I was a soldier, do you know how they treated the descendants of Britannian immigrants? If a Britannian joins the army, his whole family will be put in prison. As long as these people dared to defect on the battlefield, all of his family members will be executed! If I hadn't witnessed this kind of thing, who would believe that this is what our EU can do? We played Beethoven's "Ode to Joy" and our hearts were darker than Absalom!"

McNeil thought of the nightmare that accompanied him in a daze. GDI has never been a charity. In order to establish its authority on a global scale, it uses violent means no less than NOD to maintain order from top to bottom. Whether it was a massacre against NODs or mutants, they never stopped. In the world infested by Tiberium, mutants are the most unpopular group, and their status is like the untouchables in the caste system. McNeil can abandon prejudice for one or two people, but he cannot resist the wave of the entire era. When the mutants thought that GDI would bring them freedom, GDI cruelly used their dreams, and then called them monsters that violated human freedom.

"Sorry."

"No need."

The two were silent for a while, but it was McNeil who first talked about a new topic. Everyone has a heavy past, and only when the scars are faintly painful will they be known to outsiders. They talked about the cause of Jorge Dias’s death. The lawyer was hit by a car (apparently, the suspect was Adalbert Herzog) and died of a brain injury. Everyone believed that Adalbert Herzog was the murderer of the car hit, and he must also be responsible for the death of Lawyer Dias.

"Did Dias really be killed by car?"

"The evidence is there, there is nothing to say." Old Jake recalled the report when Adalbert was arrested, "Unless someone else drove the car that caused the accident... But how could Herzog lend the car to someone else?"

"I heard a strange case when I was in middle school." McNeil stated, "It was winter. Someone tried to climb the outer wall of a school building with bare hands for some reason and entered the room through the window. He might be a thief. Or maybe he wanted to go back to get the things he forgot to bring but didn't know how to get in. As a result, he fell off when he climbed a certain floor, broke his spine and was frozen to death in the snow. Until the next day, his body was discovered-this is the conclusion given by the police later. So, did he really fall off accidentally? If someone suddenly appeared and pushed him down, I don’t think there would be any People can detect it."

"...You want to say that Dias was killed by a third person on the scene?" Old Jake felt a little creepy, "If this is the case, is that person for sure that Adalbert Herzog will drive and hit Lawyer Dias? Oh no, what is this kind of joke?"

As McNeil said, this is just speculation. In order to confirm these inferences, they must find peripheral personnel closer to the case. There was not much time left for them and Herzog.

TBC

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Despite the changes in history, Cecil Rhodes still became one of the early figures who founded the Rhodesian colony.


	10. OR1-EP1: Rainbow Nation (8)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There was a terrorist attack in Rhodesia.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: This article contains bloody content and terrorist attacks.

[Music for this Chapter](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8rkiwXkEA8M)

OR1-EP1: Rainbow Nation (8)

Unlike Europe's method of dividing administrative regions according to traditional national borders, the idea of EU’s work in Africa is easily management. Therefore, the first European colonists at that time ignored the geographical environment and rudely used the longitude and latitude lines to draw a neat and square piece of land on the map. This practice was later proved to have endless troubles and disrupted the African indigenous people. The early colonial pioneers skillfully used the contradictions between the indigenous people to expand their sphere of influence. They weakened the entire indigenous group by supporting a group of indigenous people to attack another group of indigenous people. At the same time, the martial traditions since the French Revolution have allowed EU citizens to retain the awareness of militias and gun-bearing for a long time, especially in the African colonies where public security is still unstable. Immigrants who settle here must learn Self-defense.

This phenomenon changed after the first century of the Republican calendar. Through a series of bills, the EU has gradually deprived citizens of the right to organize self-defense, and most of the functions have been transferred to relevant departments under the control of the EU. Only in Africa, the last trace of this long obsolete tradition can be seen, that is, a demonstration organized spontaneously by other citizens who decided to pick up their weapons under the threat of indigenous violence. On the second day McNeil came to Rhodesia, he was lucky enough to see people from the Rifle Association organize a rally in the city. Thousands of citizens participated in the event. They claimed that the garrison was unable to protect the citizens. The citizens must be allowed to pick up weapons to protect the lives of local citizens. Rhodesians may be happy to see the result, they did not take any measures to interfere with this massive gathering.

"If they dare to do this in Paris, the military and police will punch their brains out." McNeil and Old Jake sat in a pub on the side of the road and watched the crowd passing by with various banners. Both of them disagree with allowing people to hold weapons, believing that doing so will only increase violence and crime, and will not protect those who need protection from harm. The purpose of adding a lock to the door is to prevent 90% of ordinary people from getting money, not to prevent professional thieves who will try to steal anyway. It is idiotic to expect ordinary citizens who are law-abiding citizens to use firearms against robbers or armed men who lick their blood.

"You have to be considerate of them. Rhodesia's economy has not been very good in recent years, and prices have risen much faster than average income." Old Jake ordered two bottles of beer and sat in front of the bar with McNeil. " It is the most famous place for foreign exchange dealers in Africa. Many speculators who exchange foreign currencies at prices higher or lower than the international exchange rate made their fortunes here. If they make a profit, the citizens will be unlucky."

McNeil saw a striking slogan posted in the bar lobby: No Rhodesian dollars. The euro is always a hard currency on the EU territory, and its credibility is as stable as gold. The price of this stability is naturally that the EU has passed all the risks to marginal colonies or other countries. In the past, the EU also tried to make some diversified economic adjustments, but the hyperinflation that occurred in Rhodesia completely destroyed everyone's confidence. It has become a wasteland abandoned by economists, who are not even confident to re-establish the dominance of the euro here.

"I remember you used to be a soldier in Rhodesia."

"Yes, that was decades ago. At that time, I was still dreaming that I would have the opportunity to be a decent person in the future..." Old Jake drank the beer in his glass, shook the bottle, and found disappointed that it was empty. He reached for the bottle in front of McNeil, who grabbed the bottle and moved it to the other side of the bar.

"Drink less, we still have work."

"Yes, I have to remember this." Old Jake shrank back angrily. "...In short, Rhodesia used to be a very prosperous place. The problems in recent years have been blamed on the increasing use of the indigenous people, and it is often said in newspapers that indigenous people with low intelligence are not worthy of governing the huge Africa."

Many disputes of sentiment turned out to be caused by business disputes. Arms dealers who started from war are facing the risk of bankruptcy or being overtaken by other industry giants in the peaceful era. They need a reliable and stable source of income, not only enough to support themselves, but also to support the entire industrial production related to it. The population of immigrant descendants in Africa is increasing year by year, almost showing a trend of geometric growth. Even so, compared with Europe, the pressure of living in Africa is still relatively small, and some citizens who are unable to survive in Europe will choose to travel to Africa. This is a huge market, which can bring countless business opportunities. How to let these people buy their own products or services has become an urgent problem for businessmen to think about. Most businesses do not have a strong background in Europe, and can only fight each other with their own abilities. This may be part of the economic law in the local area.

"In my opinion, they are no different from the Flat Earth Association. They are neurotic vagrants who hand out leaflets and preach when they meet everybody." McNeil saw three young men in uniforms of the Rifle Association walk into the bar and approached the bar. He doesn't care whether citizens can hold guns or not. If he hadn't suddenly seen Adalbert Herzog's name on the leaflet, he wouldn't even want to take it.

The youth who seemed a few years younger than McNeil looked expectantly at McNeil, who was looking at the flyer attentively, and realized that this might be someone interested in the cause they advocate. McNeil learned from the leaflet that Adalbert Herzog has always been a supporter of the Rifle Association, and at the same time advocated the use of tough methods against the indigenous peoples and completely opposed the moderates. In the entire white community, any remarks that want to compromise with the natives are betrayal and should be punished. Therefore, when the news came that Adalbert Herzog killed Jorge Dias, many people regarded him as a hero, and believed that it was a crusader who killed the Freemasonry undercover who caused disaster to the country and the people. Among the slogans of the Rifle Association is the acquittal of Adalbert Herzog. There is no doubt that since Adalbert holds this view, his father Governor-general Herzog himself will not compromise on indigenous issues. Then, why would those people who knew that Herzog would take a tough attitude still incited the indigenous people to commit violence?

"It seems that we have a consensus, and I also think that Major Herzog should be acquitted-but I think he did not commit a crime at all. The victim was not killed by him." McNeil shook hands with the youth in front of him, " Is there a similar event to support him?"

However, completely different from what McNeil had imagined, the Rifle Association's view on this case was completely opposite to his. McNeil believes that Adalbert Herzog will not kill his close classmates, or that he believes that the real murderer is someone else; the Rifle Association must let Adalbert Herzog become a murderer, just as they praised the Crusades and colonial activities that slaughtered indigenous people, this is part of the Eurocentrism they believe in. Similar things have happened in the past. The parties involved in the massacre tried their best to deny the facts, while his followers continued to exaggerate the facts and touted them as reborn heroes. When McNeil claimed that Major Herzog was not guilty, what he exchanged was not approval, but satire and sarcasm. The passionate young people of the Rifle Association will not tolerate the removal of the halo from their idols. They vehemently opposed McNeil, thinking that McNeil not only did not want to bring justice to Adalbert Herzog, but instead wanted to slander this contemporary hero. McNeil was so speechless that he had to watch these fanatical youths leave the bar. He down casted and said to old Jake:

"I would rather see them working in the factory than let them spend their extra time doing such meaningless things."

"Mike, I think they should be sent to the Britannian Empire, where they can satisfy all their fantasies of violence and authority." Old Jake looked helplessly at the parade still chanting slogans, "They may only want to find a reason to rob and burn the city."

Suddenly, there was a loud noise in the distance, the ground was trembling violently, and even the glass of the bar was shattered. The slogans outside disappeared instantly, replaced by a series of screams, and then a large group of helpless citizens stepped on each other and fled from the door in opposite directions. The bar owner was so scared that he hid behind the bar early, and none of the customers in the bar dared to go out. McNeil told Old Jake to hide in the bathroom, and he cautiously opened the door and came to the street. The end of the street was enveloped by billowing smoke, and from time to time there were people escaping from the smoke in disgrace. These horrified citizens were unrespectable and screamed like their contemptuous savages on the street, not knowing whether to vent the rest of their lives after the disaster or to express hate to the murderer. McNeil covered his nose, biting his scalp and moving on. He seemed to have stepped on something, and when he looked down, it turned out to be a severed hand. He reflexively wanted to kick this human stump aside, but the watch on that hand attracted all his attention. Based on experience, he concluded that it was an expansive watch, and that it should be able to get a lot of income by selling it.

McNeil picked up the severed hand, took the watch off, put it in his pocket, and said to himself:

"Brother, you are dead anyway, and your watch can't follow you to heaven, just leave it to me."

The corpses lying on the ground reminded him that this was not an exercise. Someone took advantage of the rifle association to hold a parade. According to the power of the explosion, if the attacker himself is present, there must be no place to bury him. McNeil watched back and forth at the explosion site several times, but found no suspicious clues. He returned to the bar, called out the old Jake who was still hiding in the bathroom, and briefly told him what he had seen and heard.

"This may be someone using Sakuradite bombs to carry out sabotage activities. As early as in ancient times, some people used this characteristic of Sakuradite to assassinate kings or nobles." Old Jake shivered and sank in a chair. "We are stared at by the devil. Now, all I encountered along the way were such disasters."

The explosion caused the garrison to declare total martial law. McNeil and Old Jake can only stay in a nearby hotel and wait until the relevant departments have completed the investigation before leaving. Later, they heard that someone had detonated a time bomb made by Sakuradite in a pressure cooker, and calculated the time it took for the parade to pass through the neighborhood, and blasted it accurately. At that time, hundreds of people died on the spot, not including the damage to nearby buildings. The Rifle Association issued a statement through the Rhodesian television station that evening, publicly condemning the murderer or organization that placed the explosives, and continued to call on EU citizens in Africa to take up arms to defend their homes.

"Our enemies are trying to overwhelm us with fear, but we will never succumb to violence." A spokesperson for the Rifle Association said in a TV interview. "We will catch these cowards who don't dare to confront each other one by one. Then we will hang them. At the same time, we hope to warn those who have excess compassion not to defend these gangsters. Today it may be our disaster, tomorrow it will be your turn, they will not put down the butcher knife just because you pretend to be compassionate."

Old Jake began to seriously consider listening to the recommendations of the Rifle Association. After he inquired about the selling prices of these guns, he began to feel distressed about all his little possessions.

"Anyway, people are dying, so I won't waste money."

Governor-general Herzog took time out of his busy schedule to deal with the tragedy. He first went to the hospital to see the survivors being treated, and then accepted an interview with the local TV station. In accordance with his usual style, he painlessly criticized the unknown attackers who relied on violence to endanger the lives and property of citizens, and then condemned the Rifle Association that incited violence. He will not easily let himself completely lose the support of any party, and being a peacemaker is more in line with his position.

"What makes me particularly sad is that during the whole process, the organizations involved refused to engage in dialogue and refused to understand each other. There is no rational argument, only absurd judgments; there is no reflection and rectification, only repeated mistakes." Although he tried his best to be as sincere as possible, his tone seemed to be telling something unrelated to him. Even the audience who supported him the most did not agree with him. " I suggested last year that we should conducted a consultation at Transvaal, and all the people I invited refused—they didn’t think I had the ability to resolve their conflicts. Okay, then I’ll let them solve the problem by themselves. Now a year has passed, and it turns out that letting them take care of the problem on their own will only make the conflict worse." At this point, Governor-general Herzog turned his head and looked directly at the camera, "If you are still watching this show, listen up: the lives of your relatives and friends are in the control of your own hands, if you always refuse any peaceful dialogue, then you and your opponents you hate will eventually be submerged in a sea of blood."

McNeil originally thought they would stay in the hotel like this until the ten-day period passed, but the governor ordered the lifting of the martial law the next day, because the guards claimed that the attacker (not unexpectedly an indigenous) was already dead in the explosion, and the attack itself was isolated and not planned by any organization. However, it can be expected that the public's hostility to the indigenous people is rapidly heating up and will soon exceed the tolerance of anyone, even the Governor-general.

TBC

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EU officials may speak the local language on local TV stations instead of always speaking French.


	11. OR1-EP1: Rainbow Nation (9)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> McNeil enters the barracks to investigate the popularity of Major Herzog.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: This article may contain discriminatory language or hate speech. These contents really exist in an apartheid society, but they should not appear in any real life.

OR1-EP1: Rainbow Nation (9)

Due to the widespread discrimination of origin in Africa, those who wish to become upper-class people will choose to send their children to Europe for education or allow their offspring to stay in Europe. In this way, their descendants will never have to continue to be oppressed in Africa. A small number of people returned to Africa with a variety of purposes and continued to work hard. Some were to maintain the wealth of their families since ancient times, while others were aware of the fact that the competition in Europe was fiercer. Like those of similar origin, Adalbert Herzog was sent to Europe to study by his father Jacob Herzog as a child. A few years later, the old Herzog himself returned to Europe to take up politics. That period was a few years when Herzog really gained fame. With his own abilities and various methods, he flourished in Europe and once became a governor. At that time, many people believed that he would go further to run for the consul as a symbol of EU's highest power. But, as if all the luck God lent him was used up, Herzog's situation took a sharp turn after that. He was attacked and vilified by his opponents, and eventually returned to Africa in despair and became the governor-general of South Africa. At this time, his status not only cannot help Adalbert who stayed in Europe, but can also allow Adalbert to take additional risks for him. So, on the proposal of Governor Herzog, Adalbert Herzog returned to Africa a few years later.

Pursuing Adalbert Herzog's service record, McNeil came to his unit to investigate. By consulting Colonel Duttmann in advance, McNeil was approved to get in touch with the soldiers or officers who had daily contact with Adalbert Herzog. In these evaluations, McNeil heard almost indistinguishable answers: Although the major looks fierce, he is usually kind to people, and definitely not like a desperado who can commit murder. Half of the respect the soldiers have for him stems from Adalbert's own style. Of course, he could lie in the back and give orders like everyone else, but he chose to serve in the most dangerous frontline troops. This behavior itself is a rare dedication. After seeing the majestic bureaucrats, soldiers, both native and immigrant descendants, miss the commanders who are willing to share the joys and sorrows of the soldiers.

McNeil listened patiently to these people's narrations while reminding himself not to be deceived by appearances. Some criminals who made big mistakes often show symptoms similar to schizophrenia. Higher professional ability and moral quality can coexist with inner darkness. They choose to show different faces to different groups in order to maintain their own Multi-faceted life. McNeil believes that no one can completely hide their secrets. They will always entrust the secrets to someone who is truly trustworthy. In this inference, he assumes that all the performance of Adalbert Herzog is a disguise. Preset a goal to find out his true style, and then look for other evidence for follow-up investigation. Maybe there will be no follow-up investigation. When the ten-day period is over, he should go back and participate in military operations against the indigenous people with others.

He found Lieutenant Heinz Meyer, Adalbert Herzog’s adjutant, and wanted to inquire about the details of Adalbert’s life.

"He is a pessimist. We don't even know where his almost desperate mood comes from." Lieutenant Meyer met McNeil on the training ground. "I was transferred to him as a deputy last year. At that time, he would say to us all day long, **‘You have to demand yourself with the standard of being able to fight a world war at any time’.** He also wrote a manual for evacuation under conditions of total war, you can read it."

Lieutenant Meyer took out the booklet from his pocket, and McNeil took it and read it carefully. It can be seen that Adalbert has spent a lot of thought on this manual, and he really hopes that those who get the manual will have the ability to save lives in a high-intensity war environment. In addition to basic survival skills and combat skills, Adalbert Herzog also recommends that readers always keep a certain amount of surplus money and living supplies, so as not to become hungry by the roadside.

McNeil closed the manual and continued to ask: "You said he is a pessimist. Apart from this manual, what other unusual actions did he have?"

"I have reported these things to the previous group of people who came to investigate, but I don't mind saying it again." Lieutenant Meyer took off his military cap and looked at the scorching sun above his head. He dragged McNeil listlessly and sat in the shade of a tree by the side of the road. "He always suspected that someone was going to murder him. He would always put his pistol under the pillow while sleeping."

"Who is it?" McNeil asked, "Since he told you that, did he say who was going to murder him?"

"I don't know, the commander didn't give any more explanation." Lieutenant Meyer shook his head. "Of course, he himself, no matter what the occasion, spares no effort to advertise to us that we must learn the fighting skills to save lives. The major often said, whether there is a war or not is not up to us. All we can do is try our best to survive the war."

Even Lieutenant Meyer, who thinks he knows Adalbert Herzog very well, is often confused about his intentions. Adalbert's strict requirements for himself have also been reflected in many aspects. He often goes to other areas to receive certain tactical training, claiming to enable him and his soldiers to master more combat skills. According to Lieutenant Meyer’s memories, Adalbert Herzog almost died in a snow-capped mountain when he went to Italy for a training camp. It stands to reason that he was so involved in the risk, he should always control himself after returning. However, Adalbert's nature remained unchanged. Less than a month after returning to South Africa, he went to the forest to explore again, saying that he was investigating the living conditions and threats of the indigenous people. As a result, Adalbert, who entered the jungle alone, was unsurprisingly lost. If the natives passing by had not given him some food, he would probably starve to death in the wild.

After escaping again, Adalbert's mentality changed. In the past, he advocated the use of resolute and hardline means to remove the remaining indigenous people, even more radical than his father, Governor-general Herzog; after his life was saved by the indigenous people, his attitude began to gradually soften. In his view, the obstacles between the two sides are information asymmetry and misunderstanding. If the indigenous people can fully adapt to modern civilization, there is no reason to use violence against the indigenous people. All people are created equal, and it is never fair to rely on a person's birth to determine his destiny.

After the morning training was over, Lieutenant Meyer brought in several soldiers to accept McNeil's investigation. He selected the same number of blacks and whites to ensure the fairness of the results.

"I heard Lieutenant Meyer say that Major Herzog added extra training to the natives."

"It is true. However, he explained that this is to allow us to have a higher probability of saving our lives in the face of hostility around us." One of the indigenous soldiers replied, "Compared with other officers who often abuse soldiers, He is still a good person."

Lieutenant Meyer frowned. Just about to say something, McNeil waved his hand to signal him to disband the soldiers. So far, McNeil has not heard any direct criticism of Adalbert's remarks or negative comments related to it. He is convinced that Adalbert is still popular, and it is impossible to do this by relying solely on disguise and bribery. Looking at the rifle on the shooting range, McNeil moved his mind again. He walked to one of the shooting positions, picked up the rifle placed on the ground, and aimed at the distant target. Meyer had already received orders from his superiors, as long as the unknown person did not do anything that would endanger military secrets, he could do anything wrong.

"Mr. McNeil, do you like this?"

"Hobby." McNeil squinted. "How about the major's shooting skills?"

"It's pretty accurate. However, after he returned from the indigenous tribe, he may have suffered from injuries and always trembles." Lieutenant Meyer stood aside watching McNeil's movements. "To outsiders, it has nothing to do. It’s important, because he has already passed the stage where he needs to go and kill the enemy himself; however, for him, this is a shame."

McNeil slammed the trigger, and the hollow shots echoed in the distance.

"I am too old. I didn't need to spend so long before." McNeil put the rifle back in place. "It seems that Major Herzog always likes to take risks... After these two dangerous experiences, when will he leave the barracks?"

"The victim of the case is attorney Jorge Dias, who came here to look for him. Another time, he volunteered to go out to attend a meeting, and the superior approved it." Lieutenant Meyer ordered someone to check the traces on the target, "I was fortunate enough to see the two of them talk in front of me. The atmosphere is very harmonious, there is no fierce conflict or dispute."

McNeil wiped the sweat from his head and realized that he should leave. Since the army had sent people to conduct forensic investigations before, he couldn't make those people extra suspicion. After bidding farewell to Lieutenant Meyer, McNeil left the barracks and returned to the hotel to find old Jake. The old man said to him excitedly that he had just bought a few lottery tickets and maybe he had a chance to make a fortune. McNeil couldn't bear to expose his illusion. Those lucky guys who won huge prizes in lottery tickets had already invested a lot of money into this bottomless pit before that, and that money might be more than the old Jake made in his lifetime. It is a pipe dream to get rich overnight with a little luck.

"You didn't say anything you shouldn't say, did you?"

"I understand, pal." Old Jake hurriedly comforted McNeil, "Of course I won't tell anyone the least bit of information about you. What's the use of them knowing the personal information of an old man of mine?"

"I didn't want to blame you; I just remind you to be careful. In case you really get rich, you can avoid getting into trouble by doing this." McNeil stayed in the hotel for less than half an hour before putting on his coat and going out again. He went straight to the nearby public phone booth and dialed the office phone number left to him by Colonel Duttmann-hoping that the Colonel himself was still in the office at this time instead of spending time out.

"Hello, is that Colonel Duttmann?"

"Yes. Who is that?"

"I'm McNeil." McNeil stood in the phone booth. He thought it was another torture to come out and call on the street under this high temperature. "The army should have investigated Lieutenant Heinz Meyer before; do you have his testimony?"

There was a long silence on the other end of the phone.

"Wait a minute, I'll find it."

Only a few minutes later did Colonel Duttmann's voice sounded again.

"The testimony of Lieutenant Heinz Meyer said that he heard Major Adalbert Herzog say **I must kill the beast** before departure that day." Colonel Duttmann read others’ testimony, "His words seem to imply that Major Herzog was ready to commit murder. Not only that, but other acquaintances of Major Herzog also stated that the major’s emotional state was very Unstable."

"...The news I heard is not like this." McNeil was suspicious. "From officers to soldiers, there are only good comments on the major, and even criticism is rare."

"However, they must have told you that the major has all kinds of symptoms similar to persecuted delusions." Duttmann explained wittily, "This is a tacit understanding between us, because EU does not allow people who are mentally weak or unstable to serve in the army. If someone accuses Major Herzog with a mental state problem, his father will also be affected. You have to understand their thoughts, they love their officers so much, and of course they will not provide outsiders with the evidence that may send the major to the gallows."

"I can understand. I will do the same." McNeil nodded in agreement; only then did he realize that there was no one in front of him. "The lieutenant also mentioned that Major Herzog had dangerous experiences twice. Has the South African or European media reported on this adventure?"

"No, you will not find relevant content in any media. His Excellency exerted pressure to force public opinion to remain silent." Duttmann laughed loudly. "The Governor-general himself said that this is really shameful. He doesn't want his son to be publicized after another death hunt someday. If you ask my opinion, I think it is a good thing for the army to maintain a high degree of vigilance. Now some people think that they will never see a new war break out in their lives. They are really blindly optimistic. "

McNeil was about to end the conversation, but when he heard that Colonel Duttmann said that Lieutenant Meyer would appear as a witness, he decided to ask for more details.

"Who are the others?"

"Many-even those who want to kill Major Herzog can't find enough evidence. No matter which side they are, they use various inferences to piece together the truth they want. However, most of them are soldiers, but I can’t give you more permission to search one by one."

"...What about civilians?" McNeil thought of a key person. "I remember the driver of Lawyer Diaz called the police first. He was also one of the witnesses, right?"

"Yes, you can try to find him, but be quick." Colonel Duttmann pointed out another important fact. "Otherwise, once your behavior is deemed to interfere with the trial, we both have the opportunity to go to jail."

McNeil decided to set off immediately. After finishing the call, he took old Jake and left the hotel and bought two tickets back to Transvaal. Old Jake was very depressed. He was still dreaming of getting rich. McNeil's move could be said to have broken another of his dreams.

"If luck will come to patronize you, it won't be these lottery tickets." McNeil and the old man squeezed on the train again, "Hurry up, the opportunity is fleeting."

TBC

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It is worth noting that if the EU uses French as its official language, then the term adjutant actually stands for warrant officer. Nevertheless, we understand it as the commander's deputy.


	12. OR1-EP1: Rainbow Nation (10)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The life of Governor-general Herzog during his vacation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: This article contains racial discrimination and torture descriptions. These are real events that have occurred in Africa. I hope that similar things will not happen again.

OR1-EP1: Rainbow Nation (10)

Governor-general Jacob Herzog lay lazily on the recliner, buckling his hat on his face so that the harsh sunlight would not directly shine in his eyes. He doesn't like this kind of weather, and the summer in the southern hemisphere sometimes makes people feel a sense of confusion, especially for those who often wander between Europe and southern Africa. In the north, the weather is slightly milder, but there will be no fundamental improvement. Nature once awed by humankind shows its power unreservedly on this land. Colonists from Europe conquered the indigenous people, but could never conquer the climate of Africa. Such a sinister place is full of threats, and the warriors who are willing to come here are already ready to die away. In the past, the EU relied on warships equipped with artillery to continuously occupy strongholds on the coast. At that time, they dared not continue to deepen inland. The true full-scale conquest occurred at the end of the first century of the Republican calendar (around the 19th century). The advent of a new generation of technological revolution has allowed Europeans to finally let go of all the madmen who dare to resist. As the EU itself continues to undergo rapid changes, the African colonies closely related to it have also been affected. The governor-general used to be the only master who held power in the colony. Each governor-general relied on his own power to obtain a huge amount of wealth, and sometimes they even tried to blackmail from their fellow immigrants. Today, the governor-general has almost become a historical term, and many colonies no longer have a governor-general who can dominate arbitrarily. The Governor-general was replaced by the High Commissioner. Fortunately, Herzog became the governor-general of South Africa. Perhaps no governor-general will appear in Africa in the future. He wants to seize this opportunity as much as possible to fulfill his ideal.

"Your Excellency, do you want to try it?"

The yelling of others dragged him back from his contemplation, and Governor-general Herzog turned his head dissatisfied and continued to doze. He came here as a guest to meet the important people he desperately needs to meet, but was placed on the golf course to play with these idle businessmen who do nothing all day long. In the past, he is of course willing to get away from heavy work to do some entertainment. The current situation he is facing does not allow him to waste time so extravagantly. Time flies. During the years when Herzog was ruling South Africa, the situation continued to deteriorate, and conflicts and violent activities among different groups could not be fundamentally curbed. He came here confidently, accepting other people's accusations in disgrace. Everyone believes that Herzog should take full responsibility and clean up their charges, regardless of how much Herzog paid for them before.

The important person he was going to meet with was still flying in the sky. Literally, the small plane above Herzog was piloted by the man himself, which was one of his personal hobbies. This phenomenon is very common in Africa. Whether it is flying airplanes, hunting, or various other weird hobbies, they can have their own market in Africa. Unfortunately, Herzog has never been interested in these things. Since he does not want to take the initiative to establish a cooperative relationship through hobbies, there is naturally no reason for others to invite him enthusiastically. Over and over again, Herzog was actually isolated, and his age prevented him from getting along with the younger generation of colonial officials.

"I said, what is your commander doing besides flying around and wandering around every day?" Herzog asked the secretary next to him, "The work here is so leisurely, I have to find a way to remove the unqualified officials and send them here."

"Occasionally to have fun with the indigenous people, sir." The secretary stood upright by the recliner, daring not to neglect the governor-general in front of him. In modern times, the governor-general has long lost command of the army. However, the prestige of the governor-general still exists, and Herzog himself is powerful, no one wants to offend the most powerful person in South Africa. If there is no relative who is a member of Parliament, it is best not to be tempted to confront colonial officials. This is the consensus of all.

The plane hovered in the sky for a long time before it landed slowly on a nearby runway. Before the plane stopped, a middle-aged man wearing a pilot's clothing had jumped out of the cabin. The soldiers and mechanics on the side hurriedly greeted the big man. He and some of his subordinates came to the prepared square table with a smile, picked up the water bottle on it, took a few sips, and then calmly went to Herzog who seemed to be asleep.

"Sorry, Your Excellency, I was delayed for a while due to personal problems. Please forgive me."

The middle-aged man took off his jacket and greeted Herzog. Governor-general Herzog didn't look up, and threw the hat on his face aside, and said sarcastically:

"Fortunately, at least you have the opportunity to brag to God that you died in an air crash instead of dying in a brothel after excessive drug use."

"I don't want to mention these things, Your Excellency." The middle-aged man sat aside with a grim look. "You have enough enemies. I warn you from a friend's point of view not to create more enemies for yourself."

"I only care about whether Paris has reviewed the draft I proposed last time." Herzog sat up with the assistance of the secretary. He coughed a few times and continued: "We have to let them recognize the facts. It’s the coming war, not a joke. Anyone who has a little foresight will realize that South Africa and even the whole of Africa is sitting on the powder keg, which will explode soon. They waste a lot of useless troops in the Far East, confronting the weak Chinese Federation, but not seeing the rise of new enemies."

On the other side of the golf course, several officers were playing another game. They brought a few army dogs, and ordered their soldiers to push a few bound natives in front of them. These malicious military officers explained to the natives that as long as they ran faster than the military dog, they could get a life back; otherwise, they could only be the food for the military dog. After hearing this threat, the indigenous people were frightened and lost their motivation to survive. Two soldiers stood on the outside of the runway to supervise this alternative game. As soon as the whistle sounded, two aboriginals were bitten by army dogs by their throats and fell to the ground struggling. The third native seemed to run faster. He ran as fast as he could. Maybe he could survive by running into the distant woods. However, the people who made the rules of this game would certainly not allow the bet to escape. A young whistling officer raised a rifle set aside, aimed at the native’s back, and shot without hesitation. The bullet pierced his left lung. The army dogs who caught up with him swarmed up and ate him.

"Look, my shooting skills are quite accurate." The officer bragged to his companions triumphantly, but his colleagues didn't seem to appreciate it. A major wearing myopia glasses immediately retorted:

"Idiot, you missed it."

"If you really place a bet, you will definitely lose." Another officer took out a few notes from his pocket. "Anyway, that kid has temporarily beaten a few beasts. It seems that God really can shape people into strange shapes."

The only reason these people can appear here is that they all have powerful elders in Europe. Otherwise, they should be stationed in a nearby barracks like other officers of the same age, guarding against attacks from indigenous people. These people can't fight in the front-line troops, and want to get enough qualifications, there is only one place waiting for them-the headquarters of the garrison. As a mixed force composed mostly of indigenous people, the role of the garrison is only to clean up the mess for the defense forces, and at the same time, it is also responsible for part of the work of maintaining security in the colony. After each request from Europe arrived in Africa, not to mention the Guardian Corp, even if it was Governor-general Herzog, he dared not refuse it. This directly led to the current Guardian Corp becoming a good place for scum.

"I'll be straightforward. The First consul appointed your remarks to be alarmist." The middle-aged man wiped his hands and looked worriedly at the young officers who were still playing around. "The Council of Forty approved the Siberian Fortress defense plan. As for all your proposals, they were all rejected. Moreover, I have heard rumors that if you publish proposals everywhere to attract attention, they will impeach you."

The middle-aged man originally thought this would make the Governor-general retreat. Unexpectedly, the governor-general became furious after listening. He grabbed the water bottle next to him and threw it out, yelling:

"Let them impeach me! Continue to impeach me! Go and impeach me now! A bunch of bastards, none of them have the guts to put their conspiracy into practice."

Herzog's anger remained unresolved, only a few complaints came from a distance. It turned out that the water bottle he threw out unbiasedly hit a young officer. The man originally wanted to scold someone, but when he saw the bottle thrown by the governor-general, his anger suddenly died down. They greeted the Governor-general in embarrassment, and then quickly slipped away like thieves. Perhaps they didn't want the Governor-general to ask them what they were doing.

The governor-general looked at the back of those cynical youths going away, and lay back on the couch in disappointment.

"... Would you let this kind of people protect the lives of citizens? I don't trust them."

"In my opinion, you worry too much." The middle-aged man comforted Herzog, "After so many years, we have enjoyed a generation of peace. As long as we work hard to maintain this situation, the officials in Paris will be calmer. New wars will not break out here. Even if the worst happens, it should be the homeland elite to deal with, and we will not become victims. Herzog, you should think about how to save your son. Otherwise, your family will be extinct here."

Seeing Herzog seemed to be heartbroken by these remarks, the middle-aged man knew he was wrong, and left the governor-general behind and took the club to play golf. He is less than sixty years old, and all his ideals have been smoothed out by the icy world. His only wish is to smoothly retired. As long as the slightest scandal occurs within his jurisdiction, he will suppress it at all costs and will not let any news affect his current status. What exactly is Herzog pursuing? The Governor-general is isolated and helpless, from a promising star to the enemy of everyone, this is the Governor-general's own responsibility.

Several soldiers trot all the way to the commander who had just finished a shot.

"Sir, a key witness in the case of Major Herzog has disappeared."

"Didn't I tell you to control him in the military zone?" The middle-aged man looked at the soldiers who brought him bad news irritably. "What happened?"

"This is an accident. I heard that when the garrison issued the order, the person in charge of transmitting the order misunderstood the order and entered the higher level of combat readiness. As a result, it caused a lot of confusion." The soldiers cowered and continued, "They said, the details need to be investigated..."

"...Tell the messenger that he can go back to his hometown and continue farming." The middle-aged man turned his head to find the ball and found that Governor-general Herzog was walking towards the court. The old man with white hair held a golf ball in his hand and stared at the confused commander with a smile.

Although he still has many doubts about Herzog, one principle will not change: Governor-general Herzog will always plan and make decisions from the perspective of South Africa as a whole. It is a pity that many people often fail to understand, so they intervene only by relying on unilateral misjudgments, making Herzog's many strategies fail, and those who interfere with the governor-general arrogantly claim that they have stopped the possible tragedy. As Herzog continues to overdraw his credibility, the status of the garrison has become quite dangerous. If they support Governor-general Herzog in any form, then they will have to bear immeasurable costs and subsequent consequences.

"History will prove that I am right."

"History only cares about who is right, right and wrong are relative in the future." The middle-aged man slid his club, "It is a shame to stand by and watch when others create history-don't get me wrong, I don't care who is winner, it's not me anyway. If there are tasks that I can help, just tell me and I will try to do it. As long as these things are within my authority, I can help you."

Governor-general Herzog dictated several place names, and the middle-aged man secretly wrote them down. These areas are bordered by indigenous reservations. Another common point is that most of the local defense is carried out by African Britannian soldiers. The middle-aged man thought that Governor-general Herzog was going to take care of his nominal compatriots, so he took the words on his own terms:

"I think maybe the Guardian Corp should continue to expand. I can call the shots. When you think the time is right, I will issue relevant orders."

"You got it wrong." Governor-general Herzog smiled triumphantly, "On the contrary, I need you to find a reason to disband all the original garrisons in the above-mentioned places. The reason should be your own."

The commander was stunned, he could not figure out why Herzog made such a decision. Herzog can only rely on these nominal compatriots, and if the governor-general abandons their expectations, he will be completely alone.

"Give me a reason."

"I must keep it secret to you. I can't trust anyone on this issue." The governor-general looked at the sudden rain clouds in the distance, "I hope we can survive this storm...live into the new world."

TBC

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since the Governor is not in an office setting, as a Britannian, he speaks English instead of French.


End file.
